


Heart to heart

by LerDan



Series: The Power of Love [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom!Stiles, First Time, M/M, Minor Character(s) Death, Open Ending, Soldier!Derek, Violence, army!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-16 13:23:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 51,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2271312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LerDan/pseuds/LerDan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coming home from the war in Iraq, Derek never knew that he'd meet someone like Stiles who would change his views of survival in life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys :)
> 
> I have a weakness for high school AU's and army AU's, so I decided to write army AU for Sterek. I had the plot in my head for a long time, so here it is..
> 
> First time writing Sterek!  
> I hope you'll like it. Enjoy and leave a review.

"I have no idea why we agreed on letting the jackass to come with us," Stiles mumbled as he drove his beloved car to the park. Scott was sitting next to him, fiddling with the radio, trying to find a normal station that played good music. He stopped at a random station that played classic rock. Good choice.

He turned to Stiles and smirked, "It's because you can't say no to Lydia, after all these years. Seriously, dude, how long are you going to hold the torch for Lydia's heart? You already know that she won't be yours."

"Ever the optimist, Scott. Thank you," griped Stiles.

"That's why we are friends!" said Scott, with a big goofy grin.

If Stiles wasn't driving, he would've slapped Scott, but because he was, he couldn't do that. Not yet anyway. His dad's warnings kept replaying at the back of his mind whenever he drove his car. He kept telling him to be safe and to look out for any signs of disturbance and to  _"keep both hands on the steering wheel, Stiles!"_ Stiles being a good son, listened to his dad, and kept his hands where they belonged; the steering wheel.

They got to the park in no time, and got out of the car just before Jackson parked right beside him, Kira pulled up soon after and got out of her car. When Kira approached them, Scott walked to meet her, stumbling as he did. Stiles rolled his eyes at them. Pathetic lovebirds.

He took out his baseball bat and the few balls he would keep in his car for the game.

"Hey, Stiles," Lydia's voice was like music to his ear, and he turned around to see her strawberry blonde hair in a French braid. She was wearing short shorts, and a loose tee.

Stiles smiled at her, "Hey, Lids."

"Want some help?" she asked, pointing at the baseball bats that he was holding awkwardly and the balls that were scattered everywhere.

"Nah, I'm good." Lydia gave him a smile and walked over to Scott and Kira, and immediately started to talk with them.

"Close your mouth, Stilinski. Or you'll catch a fly," sniped Jackson as he shouldered past him, jostling Stiles as he went.

"Someday I'm going to kick your ass, Jackson. And it's not going to be pretty."

Jackson only snorted and rolled his eyes. He walked to their usual place at the park, Scott and the girls following him.

"Yeah, don't mind me. I'm fine. I'm good," mumbled Stiles and tried to get the bats and the balls straight, but ended up flailing multiple times. In the end he got a good hold of them and, after closing his car doors, he walked to where his friends were.

"We are a bit short, but Danny said that he'll be here soon with the twins. I think we're all set," said Jackson to the group, stretching his back.

"Yeah, it's not like it's a championship, smarty-pants," said Stiles as he dropped whatever he was carrying on the floor. He looked up at Jackson, "it's just a friendly game."

"As friendly as you can get when you're up on the field."

"Someone's a sour loser."

"Shut up."

After that it was a banter between the two of them. Nothing unusual. The others rolled their eyes, since this was a normal thing by now. A few minutes later, they were joined by Danny and the twins and they prepared to start playing.

Kira and Lydia sat under the shade of a tree, to obscure themselves from direct sunlight, not that there was a lot of sun. The park that they usually came to was deserted at this time of the day and it was quiet enough for them to goof around and throw some ball.

They had been playing for hours. There were some arguments here and there, but they all had fun and things were going ,  _he_  happened.

Stiles was center field because he was good when it came to catching things from afar. Scott was pitching and Jackson was catching. The group let Kira to join in and play this round because she just couldn't sit still like Lydia was doing. Lydia was buried in an extremely heavy looking book and was too engrossed in it to pay attention to her surroundings. Jackson squatted down as Kira took the bat and flexed her fingers on the bat, as she eyed Scott and the way he changed his standing position.

They shared a smile and Stiles rolled his eyes so hard it actually hurt. Scott threw the ball and Kira hit it really hard. She stood there staring in shock as it flew through the sky and towards Stiles who was staring intently at the flying ball.

"Kira! Run!" yelled Scott. Kira jumped and squeaked. She quickly gathered her wits and started running.

"Almost got it," breathed out Stiles. He was distracted by trying to catch the ball that he wasn't watching where he was going, nor did he care. The next thing he knew he had collided with someone and he was thrown to the ground. After that, everything was a blur. Someone had their hand around his neck and it was getting harder to breathe for him. He could hear his friends were yelling. He clawed at the hand and tried to move the weight off of him, but failed.

The hand was suddenly gone from his neck, as the group pulled whoever it was off of him. He scrambled up and coughed as he tried to breathe.

"Dude what the fuck?" he wheezed. No one said anything. Scott helped Stiles to his feet. Stiles was a little surprised to see that Scott wasn't attacking the man. His surprise disappeared as he heard Jackson talking.

"Derek, breathe. It's fine. It's okay. Nothing happened…" Jackson was saying. Feeling bewildered, Stiles concentrated enough to look at Jackson and at the boy who was standing in front of Jackson. Stiles couldn't see the boy's face. The boy's head was bowed as he breathed very hard and his hands were shaking as they were balled into fists. Jackson's voice was almost unrecognizable as he talked to that man. Derek, was it? "See? He's fine. You didn't hurt him. Right, Stiles?"

Stiles was about to retort that no, he wasn't fine and that his chest definitely hurt like a bitch, when he caught Jackson's eyes. They were almost pleading with him. Stiles clenched his jaw, unclenched it, licked his lips and then said, "Yeah, dude. You didn't hurt me. See? I'm fine. I'm like, really fine. Like a newborn baby. No. Not a newborn baby, since newborn babies are weird and small and you can easily bru-"

"Shut up, Stiles," several voices said at once.

Stiles flailed, "Oh my God, guys. I'm just trying to help here."

"It's fine," everyone's mouth clicked shut at the spoken words. Seven pairs of eyes looked at the man, who took a deep breath and then turned around to face them all. He had a serious face, almost grumpy serious. He had the look that said he'd break your neck if you tried talking with him. His arms were very muscular, which mad. The boy's appearance hit Stiles so hard he almost started struggling to breathe again, because this Greek God was sitting on top of Stiles a few minutes ago, and Stiles had snapped at him. Well, then again, he was trying to kill him. He was a gorgeous creature. Stiles couldn't deny that.

"I'm fine," he said to Jackson, who nodded and his tensed shoulders relaxed a bit.

"Everyone, this is Derek Hale, he is a friend of mine. Derek this is… everyone," said Jackson, waving his hand back and forth. Derek gave a nod to them. And there was a collective of "Yo" and "hey". "What brings you here?" asked Jackson as everyone turned back to prepare for another 'round of game.

"I needed a calm place to run, I didn't know you guys knew of this place," replied Derek.

"Practically everyone knows about this place, but people can get terribly lazy to move their asses here," said Stiles as he walked up to Jackson and Derek. He felt like he needed to get closer to Derek. The name kind of fitted his whole appearance. "Stiles," he said and held out his hand.

Derek looked down at his hand and then up to his face. "What the hell is a Stiles?"

Jackson choked on his laughter and Stiles glared at him, hand dropping down. He frowned and said to Derek in a defensive voice, "It's my name."

"Oh" was all Derek said, before turning his back to continue talking with Jackson. Stiles stared at the back of Derek's head, resisting the urge to introduce it to his bat.

He shrugged and shuffled to where the group was. Scott was enthusiastically recounting he encountered a snake in his kitchen. Scott managed to lure it out to the backyard. Stiles was positive that this part was a definite lie, but because Stiles was a good friend he didn't say anything about that. Kira was staring at Scott with adoring. Stiles did his best to ignore, but seeing them like this made him want to throw up. They were such saps.

From the corner of his eye he saw Derek leave and he breathed out a sigh of relief. As much as the guy was gorgeous, he was also a dick-bag who didn't deserve Stiles' time or attention. His thoughts were cut short when Danny said that they should play one more round and then they should go and grab something to eat. They all agreed and soon after they started the game.

A few moments later, Lydia loudly complained that she was tired and bored and that they should head out already. The boys reluctantly agreed with her and they all walked to the parking lot.

Right next to Stiles' old jeep, there was a slick black Camaro standing and Stiles' jaw promptly dropped. "Woah," he whispered as he looked at it, carefully inspecting every nook and cranny that it had. It was a thing of beauty. He quickly memorized the number of the car, for no reason, and then walked to his car as his friends started to pull away from the parking lot.

"Ready to go Scotty?" Stiles asked as he got inside his jeep. His question was met with silence. He looked up from buckling his seatbelt and then his shoulders slumped. He looked around the cars and saw him in Kira's car and he pursed his lips. "Traitor," he mumbled. Stiles started his jeep and pulled out of the parking slowly. He took extra care not to hit the Camaro, because knowing Stiles, he would've probably ended up damaging it beyond repair.

As he drove after his friends he thought about who was the owner of this Camaro. He imagined the driver to be some rich dude with new iPhones in each of his hands and being a dick, because rich people were all dicks. That's what Stiles at Jackson; he was a dick. Though, Lydia was rich as well, but she wasn't a dick. She was pretty cool. But it's Lydia, she's always been cool, so there's that. But Jackson was a dick, but so was the car owner. Probably. Maybe. Stiles shrugged.

* * *

He walked inside Starbucks just as his gang of friends claimed their favorite spot. They all cheered and howled to get his attention. As if he didn't know where they were. Stiles simply rolled his eyes and walked towards the table, getting a chair from the neighboring table and sat down on it. He clapped Scott on the shoulder and quickly joined in the conversation they already had going.

After they ordered their drinks and got them, Lydia said, "Jackson's throwing a big party this coming Saturday. It's going to be at his beach house. You guys can stay the night, if you want to."

"Awesome," said Ethan leaning back against his chair.

"Is it a color themed party like you wanted to do few months ago?" asked Danny.

Jackson nodded, "White."

There was a collective of 'ooh''s from his group of friends and Stiles rolled his eyes, again. Jackson's parties were all legendary for its uniqueness. Every year, in summer, he'd throw these big-ass parties where literallyeveryone from town was invited. There was booze and chicks. Lots of chicks. And not only chicks.

It wasn't that Stiles would get to have sex or anything of the sort, other than the random kisses he'd have now and again, Stiles' life was boring. He didn't even get to the second base with a girl, and he wasn't teen anymore. Oh well, at least he'd get to hang out with his friends some more before his college year would start.

He looked around the table and almost sighed in sadness. Everyone seemed to have found someone. Jackson was with Lydia since they were in their diapers. It was cute, if not for the fact that Stiles had this huge crush on her since he could remember.

Scott was slowly charming the panties off of Kira, but it seemed like that Scott didn't even have to try at all because if anything, Kira's smile was almost blinding. Ethan and Danny had just started their relationship, but they were going strong. Aiden, well, he was as straight as the next straight guy. He couldn't have been any straighter even if Gods would beg him to be. He just couldn't. And he was hot, which was uncool. But oh well…

The black Camaro that he saw at the park passed by Starbucks and Stiles' attention zeroed in on it. So, whoever was the owner of the car, was definitely from this town. Which made Stiles' job a lot easier. His job consisted of searching and finding out who was the owner of the car. Because Stiles had to know whose car it was.

Because he wanted to know.

* * *

 

Few days later, Scott and Stiles were playing video games while sitting on Stiles' worn out couch; shouting and making inhuman noises at the screen as they fought each other. It was a normal Wednesday night for them. When Stiles' dad had a night shift, Scott would come over to keep him company, which also meant sleepless night, playing way too much video games and eating bunch of snacks that would ruin their stomachs in the near future. But who cared anyway?

"That Derek kid was creepy and weird and an asshole," Stiles said bitterly as he smashed Scott's character's head into a bloody pulp.

"Who?" asked Scott while restarting the game.

"Derek. That dark looking kid that choked me to death? At the park?" said Stiles.

"Oh him. Yeah. What about him?"

"Well, didn't he look, I don't know, weird?"

"Weird?"

"Yeah, dude, do you even listen a word that is coming out of my mouth or have you gone deaf? That's it, isn't it? You've gone deaf and now I have to communicate with you while writing down whatever I have to say. Thanks buddy, you suck."

"Oh my God, Stiles. Shut up! And I haven't gone deaf you daft asshat. I'm just curious as to why you're so interested in this Derek guy. He was just a guy," said Scott, fighting Stiles' character. Of course he was failing.

"He tried to choke me to death!" protested Stiles. "He had this whole hot bod on top of me and his strong muscle arms and hands with those thick long fingers wrapped around my neck, and in NOT so sexy way."

Scott paused the game and looked at Stiles. He squinted his eyes and tilted his head to the side. Stiles knew that expression only too well. He was either going to say something witty and smart, or something incredibly stupid that'd make Stiles throttle him till death. This time, legitimately throttle him, not like that godlike creature did to Stiles.

"Stiles, are you okay?" asked Scott, still squinting at Stiles in that way.

Stiles frowned and then quirked up an eyebrow, "Of course, dude. I am okay. Why do you ask?"

"Because one minute you're complaining about this Derek guy about the way he acted towards you, and then the next you're talking about how sexy he is or whatever. And then you're complaining about how he tried to choke you while looking like the way you described him."

"Yeah, and?"

"Are you sure you're actually pissed off at the guy, or did you like it secretly?"

Stiles looked at Scott without any sort of emotion marring his features. He picked up his remote of the game, hit the pause button, and promptly cut Scott's character by mid.

"Hey!" cried out Scott, indignantly.

"That's what you get for being a smart-ass, you jerkhead," yelled Stiles.

After that they played more video games but nothing was said about Derek. Stiles didn't even think about him at all. Not until he was all alone in his bedroom and in bed, with his thoughts running around in his head. What was surprising was how Jackson was talking to him. Was Derek, like, ill or something? Maybe he had anger issues or something. Well, he did look angry all the time, so there was that as well. Yup, he definitely had anger issues.

His last conscious thought of the night was of Derek, and of dark Camaro car, and colliding with Derek in the park and feeling how firm Derek's chest was. At least he wasn't having a nightmare. It was a nice change.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Did you seriously just compare yourself to a hamster?"

Stiles liked working in the mornings on Saturdays at the café that he worked in summer. He usually took the night shifts and since he liked having his Saturday nights' off, he worked in the morning. He already had his own bunch of customers now and again which was pleasant. Seeing familiar faces throughout the morning made him realize why he didn't have to regret waking up really early in the mornings.

He leaned on the counter top as he observed his surroundings, it was a slow day so Stiles was really bored. He'd occasionally walk out to see if there was anyone new sitting outside, only to head back in without anything. He was debating on whether taking a break just for the hell of it, since it seemed like his two tables weren't going to order, when number 5th table's ring started to ring and Stiles breathed out in relief. He ran his hand over his hair and then walked outside with a menu tucked under his arm.

The guy who was sitting at the table was facing the street, so Stiles couldn't see his face. He was wearing a light brown, tight t-shirt. The table cloth was obscured his pants. So Stiles shrugged and made his way to the table. He noticed that the guy was sitting very straight, before he placed the menu on the table and said, "Good morning, sir. What can I get-" Stiles stopped short, his mouth shutting with a click.

Derek Hale looked up from the book he was reading, his face expressionless. His day was really slow, and now this. Could this day get any worse?

Derek raised an eyebrow. "You."

"Me," snapped Stiles. He turned to go, but Derek grabbed his wrist and stopped him. He wanted to go inside and not come out for the rest of the day, but of course now he couldn't do it. Not when Derek was holding his wrist so tight.

Stiles jerked his hand, and Derek lowered his hand. Stiles glared off into the distance and refused to look at the brooding, gorgeous guy at the table.

"Is this the way you treat your customers?" sighed Derek.

"Only douchebags like you," Stiles was quick to say. Good thing his boss wasn't around because he was sure that he would've gotten fired even before the sentence ended.

Derek snorted. "So, now I'm a douchebag. That's a new one. I'll take that as a compliment, thanks."

Stiles looked at him, "Right. Are you ready to order, sir?"

"How can I be sure you won't poison me?"he asked as he dismissed the menu.

"You can't," snapped Stiles. Derek made him feel so much anger and frustration, that he wanted to either throw punches or kiss him silly. He could feel it at the tip of his finger and his bones. It was a steady rhythm. It kept him in control of his emotions. And he had no idea which one would happen first. Stiles took a steadying breath and said, "Let me know if you'll decide on anything, sir. I'll just be a ring away."

He turned to leave again, but Derek stopped him. This time he was holding his hand and Stiles almost fainted. For those few seconds Stiles felt Derek's calloused fingers before Derek let go" or something like that. Stiles internally groaned and mentally slapped his face repeatedly, but he managed to grit out through his clenched teeth. "What? What do you want? You know I have bunch of other customers to serve and you stopping and keeping me here won't help me at all."

Derek raised his eyebrows and looked around the café. There were only two tables seated and both of the customers were engrossed in their laptops. Derek turned and looked at Stiles, with a smug look on his face.

"There will be others. Soon… It's a slow day!" protested Stiles. Even in his ears it sounded like a lame excuse.

Derek's smile vanished. "Look, I don't think our first meeting was a success."

"You think?" Stiles snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. He glared at Derek and his perfect eyes. It was weird seeing Derek's face go through several emotions. It changed Derek's grumpy face a lot.

"Yeah," said Derek, carefully marking the book he was reading and placing it on the table. Stiles managed not to gape at the book he was reading. Stiles never thought that guys like Derek Hale would read books like "Les Miserables". He willed himself not to freak out and not start up a conversation about the book. Instead he focused back on Derek's face as he said, "Look, I'm not a bad guy. Or, I tell myself this all the time, so I don't really know if I am. Anyway, I'm just not used to socializing. That's all."

"Oh, believe me, I know that you aren't," Stiles replied trying not to be sarcastic. "If you trying to choke me to death was anything to go by…" he left it at that.

"Yeah, about that," Derek said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip. He rubbed the back of his neck and said, "I'm sorry. I just… overreacted."

Stiles stared. "Overreacted by when some guy accidentally bumping into you while you were running? That's comforting. Do you overreact like this all the time? Must be fun."

Derek just shrugged, that almost smile was still on his lips. "Believe me, I have way too many overreactions, and this was… believe me, you should be thankful that you've been so lucky."

"Lucky? Dude, I'm traumatized for life!" cried out Stiles.

"Sorry," said Derek again, this time looking apologetic.

Stiles sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, if you're going to order something, then do it please. Because I really need to get back to work."

Derek's face shattered for a moment, but then he seemed to compose himself, his face morphing into one of indifference. "I'll have black coffee, please. No sugar or milk, thank you."

"Any sweets? C'mon, I'm sure you have a sweet tooth for something," It was a way for Stiles to let him know that he was cool with him, but Stiles was still being stubborn to let him know that they were cool.

Derek looked at him and then shrugged, hesitantly. "Whatever's good, I'd like that."

"Dude, you shouldn't tell me that, because I'm a sucker for sweet things," said Stiles flailing a bit while he did so.

"More reasons to trust you on that, don't you think?" Derek stared right into his eyes.

Stiles stared at Derek for a moment and then he just nodded, took the menu from the table and walked inside to place the order. He walked towards the section where they held their slices of cakes and stared at them. He didn't know which one to choose, but his favorite of them all was chocolate mixed up with banana and strawberry. It held a rich scent to it and melted on his tongue whenever he'd had it. Mouthwatering, he took a slice of it and placed it on a white plate. The coffee was ready by the time he returned to the bar to take it outside. Making sure that everything was okay on the tray he walked to where Derek was and placed them in front of him.

"There you go. Black coffee and a slice of cake."

Derek looked at the cake and then nodded, humming in agreement and appreciation. Stiles licked his lips and then added. "It's one of my favorites, and it's on me."

"No," said Derek, firmly.

"What? Why not? You can't say no to a person who offers to get you something, that's just plain rude."

"Because I don't want you to buy me a piece of cake."

"It's just a piece of cake," Stiles said, he reached out to punch Derek's shoulder but he snatched his arm back. He definitely didn't want to lose his limbs, especially, when Derek didn't like being touched. "Just, do me a favor and enjoy it? I don't know when I can get a break, but until then you should enjoy it for me."

Derek stared up at Stiles with pursed lips and furrowed brow. After some staring, he sighed and then nodded. "I will, thank you."

"Awesome!" said Stiles, clapping his hands together. He forgot that he was still holding on to the tray so he sort of flailed, again. He let out a nervous chuckle and then, tucked it under his arm. "Uh, yep," he said and took a step forward, only to come back again, "I'll be a ring away." And then he was walking inside as quickly as he could. He leaned against the bar and breathed in and out, steadily and carefully.

He felt like a total loser and he was pretty sure that Derek thought the same about him. Which was worse than he imagined. What if Derek totally hated him? But then again, even if he did, it didn't change anything. Stiles sighed and started to fix up the bar, and the stand, and anything that he could get his hands on. He was feeling jittery, knowing that Derek was sitting outside, eating a slice his favorite chocolate cake and drinking black coffee. Knowing that he and Derek were "cool" now, he sighed again, and fought the urge to sneak a peek at the guy outside. Of course he failed.

Derek was engrossed in his book and his hand was hovering over, a thick layer of cake on his fork. His lips were parted as if he was prepared for the cake to go into his mouth. He looked too good like that _ **.**_  Stiles backed away from the window and finished up cleaning.

He got more customers as the day passed by. And he carefully avoided staring at Derek, even if he felt his eyes boring holes at the back of his neck. He simply went on with his business, as if he wasn't there. It was almost the end of Stiles' shift when he thought that he should let Derek know that he is going to leave soon and another waiter will take care of him. He had no idea why he wanted to tell Derek that.

"Hey," he said, to get Derek's attention. He noticed that Derek was almost done with the book.

"Hey," said Derek, looking up at him, with bright eyes and a small smile.

Stiles stares at him for a moment, not knowing what to say or do, before he shook his head and said, "Yeah, I just wanted to let you know that I'm almost done with my shift and _ **,**_  uh _ **,**_  another person is going to take my place. So… yeah. Have a nice day," said Stiles and turned half-way when Derek spoke again.

"Oh, well, I was already finished and I was about to call you for the check, please?" said Derek, bookmarking his book to get his hands free to grab his wallet.

"Oh no, no. No need to. Really," Stiles said quickly.

"What?" asked Derek, looking surprised.

"It's on me."

"No, but-"

"No 'but's Derek. It's on me. I was acting like a total douchebag to you at first without really know what was the real deal, which I still don't know by the way. But anyways, it's just- this is a way for me to apologize to you."

"You apologize to me? Why?" Derek frowned. "If anyone's going to apologize, then it's me, Stiles." Stiles opened his mouth to protest, but Derek held out a hand to shush him. "It was my fault, I overreacted and… it didn't go well. So I apologize. Again." Derek gave him a smile and Stiles sighed.

"Fine, fine. Well, I guess I'll see you around then?" Stiles asked feeling like he needed to talk to him more. He didn't know why, but he liked talking to Derek. Even if it looked like it was killing him half of the time to utter the words that would come out of his mouth.

"Are you going to come to Jackson's party tonight?" asked Derek.

Stiles nodded. "Yeah. You going?"

"Yes," Derek gave a nod. And then he stood up. Derek was a tiny bit taller than him, but it wasn't what made Stiles' mouth hang open in surprise and shock. It was the army pants that Derek was wearing. Stiles always had a weakness for army people and uniforms, anything that had to do with that profession.

"Holy shit," he breathed out. Derek raised an eyebrow. "Holy  _shit_."

"What?" asked Derek feeling confused.

"You-you're a soldier? You serve in the army?" asked Stiles breathlessly.

"Uh, yeah. I do. What? You didn't know?"

"No, you ass. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know it was of import?" said Derek, frowning at Stiles as if he was an alien or something.

"Of course it's of import, you jerk!" Stiles yelled. If it wasn't of the fact that they were outside, Stiles would've probably stomped his feet on the ground like a child.

Derek gave him a bored look, rolled his eyes and then walked away from his table. "I'll see you at the party, Stiles." He said without turning back.

Stiles stared after him, with an open mouth and rooted to where he was standing. He was in complete shock. It never occurred to him that Derek Hale could've been a soldier. It would explain why he was so violent with Stiles the first time they met.

Stiles shook his head and headed back inside. He checked out on the bar, walked to the backroom, got changed and then left his work to home. He had to get ready for the party. And Derek Hale was going to be there. So he wanted to impress him as best as he could, but knowing Stiles' luck, he had zero chance of winning Derek's affections. He'd get a better chance on hitting a tree rather than on a hot guy like Derek. Stiles sighed and climbed into his Jeep and drove back home, his mind full of light eyes and blinding small smiles.

* * *

 

Stiles self-consciously ran a hand through his hair. It looked alright, not messy or anything, well it was messy, but it was a way that he usually styled. He was just nervous and when he was nervous he always played with his hair. Anyways.

There were a lot of people that he didn't recognize at the party. And since Jackson knew practically everyone from town so they were all invited. And everything was in white. The only thing that wasn't was the neon green bracelet he wore just before coming in to the party.

The house was situated at the outskirt of the town. It took him about an hour to get there, but it wasn't an unpleasant trip. It was nice in here with the cool weather and starry night.

The party was outside, so he walked to where the table with drinks were, grabbed a beer from the cooler and clicked it open with his hand. He took a sip of it and leaned against the table, moving his foot to the beat of the music. Stiles looked around and wondered if he'd see any familiar faces in the crowd. Before he walked here, he had texted Scott and told him that he was there _ **.**_ Scott said that he was there as well. Stiles was pretty sure that Scott was up in the house, in one of the bedrooms with Kira. Stiles sighed and quickly finished his can of beer.

Maybe he would get lucky tonight? It wasn't like he looked bad in his skinny white jeans, or his favorite white button down shirt which was tight on him and he had rolled the sleeves up till his elbows. No, he looked fucking hot if he said so himself, it just… people weren't really interested in him. Maybe some dude would want to do something with him and he'd finally find out what it's like to be with a guy? He knew that he liked boys as well, but he had never been with a guy before, so he was curious. He was definitely up for some shit to go down tonight, literally, since it looked like his friends were going to be busy tonight anyway. He sighed and took another sip of his beer.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Derek fucking Hale came out of nowhere. He stood right beside Stiles, holding a white cup of some drink in his hand.

And Stiles, well… he was promptly getting choked on his own drink. "Dude, you scared the shit out of me," he coughed few times and wiped at his eyes. Not a beautiful site. Ugh. "What the hell?"

"Good to see you too, Stiles." _ **  
**_

Stiles looked at him, just to take him in. The white of his clothes were making his eyes stand out. He was wearing white loose pants with matching loose shirt, that had a V-neck and Stiles could see his chest hair peeking out. Stiles looked away. He took another sip of his beer. There was no doubt: Derek Hale looked gorgeous. And Stiles wanted him.

"What are you doing here?" was what left his mouth next. Seriously? Like he didn't already know what he was doing here. It was a freakin' party, to which he was personally invited. Stiles wanted to smack his hand and dig a hole in the ground and hide in there for the rest of the night.

Derek shrugged and looked around, taking a sip from his glass of something, "Just wandering around. Parties aren't really my thing. But Jackson asked, so here I am." Derek looked at Stiles and asked, "I've seen you since the moment you walked in, by the way. And as the minute went by you looked like you were going to cry. Everything okay?"

"I wasn't going to cry," said Stiles incredulously. "Seriously? I'm at a party not at a funeral!"

Derek huffed out a laughter. "I know, Stiles. I can see that. Don't get worked up. I just… I don't know. I saw you looked sad so I thought I'd approach. That's all. And that Jackson douche is nowhere to be found, so… If you want me to leave, I will. Really."

"No, no. Sit down. Or lean down, or whatever. Don't leave. You're fine," said Stiles, because it was the truth. If he saw Derek first he would've probably made a beeline for him, because they were cool now. Derek released a breath and seemed to relax as he did so. Stiles wondered what made him so worked up and nervous. It wasn't like Stiles was anything special. It was just him. Nothing special. He was just Stiles.

"Uhm…" said Derek as he leaned against the table, beside Stiles. "So this is what a party looks like?"

"You've never been to a party?"

"The last time I was at a party, it was prom. And proms are lame excuses for teens to fuck. But no, I haven't been to a party before."

"Why not?" asked Stiles, feeling extremely curious. With the way Derek looked, Stiles thought that he must've been a party animal. But obviously he was wrong.

"When you fight to keep yourself alive for months, or years is probably the best term to use here, you don't really get time for partying," said Derek. He didn't sound angry or upset, but Stiles still felt like a dick.

"Shit, man, I forgot. I'm sorry. It just kind of slipped out of my mind, you know?"

Derek chuckled. "Nah, it's fine. I understand. When you're not into it, you just kind of… don't think about it. No reason to think about it." Derek looked at Stiles and gave him a small smile. "Honestly, you should be glad, though. You're like, the only person that I talk to this much."

"Really?"

"Yes. My comrades beg me to talk to them, but I'm silent all the time. And I didn't ran away already, so… you're good. I'm as anti-social as the next hamster during the day."

"Did you seriously just compare yourself to a hamster?" asked Stiles trying hard not to laugh.

"Have you seen my teeth? They're like hamster teeth. Look," said Derek and barred his teeth for Derek to see. His two front teeth were longer and a bit forward then the rest of them. "See? Hamster teeth."

Stiles stared at him with his mouth hanging open and then he cleared his throat and said, "I think it's cute."

"Really?" asked Derek, touching his mouth, self-consciously.

"Yeah, really. It suits you," Stiles shrugged, going for indifference and offering a smile. But his insides were doing the Macarena.

Derek was staring at him with an amused expression on his face. Stiles ignored him, but he bumped his shoulder with his. Derek let out a huff of laughter, but didn't say anything for a while. They observed the dancing crowd quietly, not saying anything. It was nice, having someone by his side. Derek was a quiet kind of a person. He was one of those people that if you didn't ask him anything, he wouldn't talk at all. But then again he did talk to Stiles a lot, so maybe Stiles was a special case? He snorted at his own thought. Derek looked at him with a small frown on his brows, but Stiles shook his head. It didn't matter. It wasn't important.

"Is there a reason why you came here tonight?" asked Stiles quietly as he grabbed another beer. He offered one to Derek who shook his head.

"I'm not allowed to drink," he said and Stiles nodded, understanding. He was about to ask again why he was here if he was so anti-social, when Scott came out of nowhere.

"Yo Stiles, my man!" he tugged Stiles into a bro-hug that Stiles returned. "Hey, Derek! I didn't know you were going to be here as well." He shook his hand enthusiastically.

Stiles looked at him suspiciously. "Are you high?"

"Me? Nope, I'm not. I just feel goooood," said Scott grinning like a madman.

Yeah, Stiles' suspicions was being confirmed in a second. Scott wasn't high; he had just come from having sex with Kira. When he got laid, he'd always get like this. He knew that Scott wouldn't get high without him, not that they got high all the time. Only when they were lazy, or whatever.

"Yo!" Scott snapped his fingers in front of Stiles' face to get his attention. "You with me?"

"Yeah, sorry. Just zoned out, what's up?" asked Stiles. "Totally zoned out there for a moment."

"Yeah. I was just telling Derek that they're doing tequila shots at the house. You game?"

"Yes, definitely. Derek, you in?" asked Stiles, even though he already knew the answer to that."

Derek sort of nodded and shrugged. "Sure."

"Awesome," said Scott and led the way. "Kira's already there. She's been doing shots when I came after you guys. She manages alcohol like nobody's business. It's kinda cool."

They got inside the house and Scott led them towards the kitchen where their group of friends were. Kira's side of the table was covered in shot glasses and she wasn't even swaying. Her opponent, he was a kid that Stiles recognized from town, picked up a shot glass. It almost got to his mouth before he lost consciousness.

"Fuck yes!" Kira yelled and Scott cheered and hugged her close. Stiles laughed at them and then licked his lips. He was so ready to get drunk.

"Are you seriously gonna do it?" asked Derek as he saw Stiles' determined face.

"Yes, I am. Why not? It's gonna be totally awesome!" said Stiles to Derek, and then he said a bit louder. "I'm in, guys!"

"Cool. Liam, come on buddy, your turn," Scott told a small looking guy, who looked very nervous.

Liam stood at the other side of the table and faced Stiles. Lydia and another girl quickly cleared the table, while Jackson quickly placed 10 shot glasses in front of them and said, "Finish these glasses at the same time, another 10 will come up right after that, finish that row, another will come up. The winner will be the person who will drink more and will be able to hold in his alcohol. And then he'll have to compete Kira here because she is fucking awesome that's why. Ready? Go!"

The first glass was raw in Stiles' throat, but he wasn't a wuss so he quickly grabbed the other one and drank it. He quickly got through the first row and saw that Liam wasn't far behind. Impressive. Another row joined in, and another, and another. Stiles was barely holding on to the tabletop, and Liam was almost on his knees.

"Don't you think they should stop?" he heard Derek's voice say, but he could barely make out what was in front of him, so he just gulped down more and grabbed another glass.

"Nah, they're fine. Stiles totally got it," Scott's voice was filled with so much confidence that Stiles almost puked and cried at the same time because of it. Scott was such a good friend.

And it wasn't like he was drunk. He was cool. He was awesome. It was just the room was kind of blurry and it wouldn't stop spinning as much as he drunk. Go figure. He took another glass and was about to drink it when he heard the sound of a thump and he was sure that Liam lost.

"Stiles wins!" someone yelled right into his fucking ear, and he tried to get away from the voice but he tripped and landed on something very firm but also soft. He nuzzled his face into that, sighing contently. It was soft.

"I think he is out of it."

"Yeah he is definitely out of it."

Arms grabbed him around the waste to hold him up. Arms that were freakishly strong, compared to the softness he was feeling against his cheek.

"Is there some place I can put him, Jackson?" there was a soft rumbling against his cheek and he kind of buried his face further into it. The arms tightened around him. It felt nice.

"Yeah, upstairs bedroom. Second door from the stairs."

"Make sure he won't puke on the sheets, or choke on his own vomit. Here. Make sure he drinks these, okay?" Lydia's voice said, and then he was being moved. He wrapped his arms around that strong body, which was also soft? It was a weird combination but Stiles wasn't complaining. At all.

He didn't remember how, but the next thing he knew he was being laid down on a bed and someone was taking off his sneakers. He moaned and then turned on his belly, wanting nothing more than to sleep. But it wasn't going to happen, apparently.

"Hey, Stiles. No. Don't go to sleep just now. You've gotta drink this." A voice said, that sounded suspiciously like Derek's.

Stiles cracked his eyes open and squinted up at Derek's serious face. "You're pissed," he mumbled before he tried to sit up. He accepted the water bottle from Derek and some pill that he had no idea what it was, but because it was from Derek he took it and drank it. He gulped down the whole bottle and then flopped down on the bed. "Head hurts."

"It's going to be worse tomorrow morning," said Derek as he stood up. "Now sleep. See you some other time, Stiles."

Before he could take a step away, Stiles reached out and grabbed his hand. It was rough and calloused, but… it felt sort of right, holding it. "Stay…" sighed Stiles and then he flipped to his stomach and was out in a second.

Derek looked at his sleeping form for a moment and then pinched the bridge of his nose. He walked around the bed and sat at the other side. He toed his shoes off and got his legs on the bed. Stiles mumbled something in his sleep, but then he moved closer to Derek's body and buried his face in between the bed and Derek's thigh. Derek swallowed hard and then let his hand ran over Stiles' hair. Stiles hummed in appreciation, smacked his lips and then his breathing evened out.

After a moment, sleep tugged at Derek's consciousness, and he was asleep in a second as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a review! They'll make me happy and will make me more willing to write more :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is there something you want to tell me, Stiles? Is there anything you want to tell me?”  
> “No. I don’t have anything to say.”

Stiles woke up slowly. His ears got there first and then his eyelids started to flutter open. He groaned at the assault of the sunlight directly on his face and moved his face into the pillow to shield away from the glare. The action hurt his everything and he wondered why he had drank so much. What was the point anyway? It wasn't like he was trying to impress someone by that. It was stupid and irrational and Stiles would like to die right here and right now, thank you very much.

Stiles flexed his fingers and then very, very slowly or forced himself to sit up. He had a bad head rush. Running a hand through his hair, Stiles tried to think about what happened right before he passed out. He remembered playing the drinking game with some nervous looking dude and then he had won. After that Derek brought him up.

Stiles froze for a second, looked down at what he was wearing, which were his yesterday's clothes, and slowly turned on the bed to look at the other side of the bed. Which was empty.

Stiles felt both relieved and disappointed.

He shook his head and stood up. No need to feel anything now, Derek was still practically a stranger to him. Yeah, as much as Stiles liked one night flings (which wouldn't pass by boob touching, so he'd probably have to think about another term then fling), he was someone who was committed. And commitment came with Stiles as if it was a second suit.

Feeling like he was about to fall back to sleep, he stood up and slowly made his way to the opened door of the bathroom. Thank God, Jackson was so fucking rich that he could afford having bathrooms in the rooms. No shared bathrooms. Which was pretty awesome, considering who was the owner.

Anyways, Stiles wasn't really complaining.

He did his business, washed up and started down the stairs. Listening to the chatter of his friends, he walked to where the kitchen was, and sure enough; his friends, who stayed over, were all there. They were making something that smelled really delicious.

"And she rises!" Jackson said, throwing his hands up.

Stiles rolled his eyes and flipped him off. He went to the freezer and pulled out a bottle of water. "What time is it?" he asked in general.

"It's almost 10, bro. I'm surprised you woke up this early," said Scott as he clapped him on the shoulder as he passed him by. There was a bowl of something in his hand that Stiles wasn't able to catch, so he just shrugged.

"I don't know, I slept fine, but woke up with a headache. You know, the usual."

"Here," Kira said and gave him a small bottle of medicine. She smiled up at him with a small smile, which Stiles returned.

As he was taking the medicine, he looked around and saw that literally every one of his group of friends were present. But Derek wasn't there. He was just about to ask Scott where he was when Lydia announced that breakfast was ready.

In a typical fashion that only they could muster it up, they wolfed down their breakfast in record time. The others cleaned the table, while Stiles did the dishes. After breakfast they all just scattered around the house, leaving Stiles to fend for himself.

He sighed, grabbed a bottle of water and looked out of the kitchen window. It was a nice day outside. It was sunny, and the crashing waves of the sea was luring Stiles out. Before he could think about it, he slid the French doors open and walked outside. Stiles took a deep breath and started down the small stairs that lead him to the sand. He took off his shoes, left them at the patio and walked into the sand. He wiggled his toes a bit, getting accustomed to the temperature of the sand. It was cool under his feet.

Stiles' lips twitched up. He started down the lane towards the shoreline where the waves were mapping happily at the sand. He bent down, rolled up the hems of his white jeans and walked into the water. He started walking by the edge of it. Occasionally, the water would come and whoosh over his bare feet. It was somewhat cold, but it was pleasant.

Stiles didn't know how long he was walking. The sun was high in the sky, warm and persistent at the back of his neck. He could see the families with their kids, or with their friends, relaxing at the beach. He could see small kids, around 5 to 6, trying to build a sand castle. Of course they were failing at it, but they looked determined, and the whole thing looked adorable to Stiles.

He slowly made his way to the small dock and walked down to the end of it. He didn't notice it at first, but when he got closer he realized that there was another person standing there. Leaning against the railing, his back to Stiles, his clothes fluttering by the soft breeze, was Derek.

Stiles knew it was him. He didn't know how he knew it was Derek, but he just knew. Stiles bit down on his lower lip, ran a hand through his hair. He knew that it wouldn't do any good, but at least it calmed Stiles' nerves. He took a deep breath and walked to where Derek was standing.

"You missed out on a freakin' huge and delicious breakfast, dude. It was awesome," said Stiles as a way of announcing his presence, acting nonchalant and plastering a blinding smile on his face. His insides were filled with butterflies.

Derek looked at him with a raised eyebrow and then looked ahead to the sea, "I don't eat breakfast."

"Why not? Everyone has breakfast. Even if it is lunchtime, for some people… but yeah, it's breakfast. It's food. Everyone loves it," Stiles knew he was rambling and he wasn't exactly making any sense, but he really couldn't stop himself talking. Derek did that to him. It was weird, really. The way he acted around Derek as if he knew him all his life. And as if he needed to prove to Derek that he was a good guy. Well, Stiles knew that he was a great guy, he was awesome, but Derek didn't know, so…

Derek licked his lips and huffed out a puff of air. He didn't reply anything back, and Stiles got it. He did. There were so many people who got irritated with Stiles in no time, that he was used to Derek being all closed up and huffing and puffing with him. It was disheartening to know that Derek was actually capable of holding a conversation, but he was acting like this right now. Stiles wanted to shake Derek and demand him to pay more attention to him, but Derek's closed off expression and his standing position said it all; he didn't want to talk to anyone.

Stiles bit his lower lip and then thumped on the railing several times and turned to leave. Before he could take 4 steps, Derek's words stopped him. "I received a letter this morning."

Stiles swallowed and closed his eyes. He took a deep steadying breathe. He waited for Derek to speak. The silence was almost overwhelming.

"When?" he asked. His voice low and weak, even to his own ears. But he knew that Derek heard him.

"I have to leave in a week."

"No," the words tumbled out of Stiles' lips even before he could think about it. He turned and walked to where Derek was standing. "No, Derek. You can't just take and leave, ok?"

Derek straightened up and frowned at Stiles. "What are you talking about, Stiles? Of course I have to leave. I-"

"No one 'has' to leave, Derek, ok? No one has to do anything."

"It is my choice, Stiles. I chose this lifestyle, and I'm a man of my word."

"You can't be even more than, I don't know, 25?" Stiles stressed. He knew it wasn't his place to talk about this, knew that Derek was nothing more than a friend to him. He was even a stranger to him. He had no right to be angry at Derek for making that decision, for going back to the war. For leaving Stiles.

Derek chuckled at that, his voice dry and humorless. "I'm not 25, Stiles. I'm 37."

Stiles blinked up at Derek. "Y-you're what? 37? Are you shitting me right now?"

"No," Derek said, his voice firm and unwavering.

Stiles stared at Derek for a moment and then realization dawned on him. "You aren't lying, are you? You really are 37."

"I am," Derek nodded.

Stiles bit his lip. He slid down the rail and sat down, leaning against it. He planted his feet on the wood and let his arms drape over his knees. He licked his lips and watched as Derek sat beside him, crossed legged.

"Where are you leaving to?" Stiles asked after a moment of silence.

"Iraq."

Stiles nodded, but didn't say anything else. He didn't know what to say to that. He fidgeted in his place, he drummed his fingers on his knees. There were bunch of questions swirling around his head and he didn't know which one he should ask first. He scratched his forehead and sighed.

"I know you have questions, so start asking them," said Derek.

"When are you leaving?"

"Like I said, I'm leaving in a week."

"For how long?"

"Unknown."

"Is it safe to go?"

"It's never safe."

Silence.

"Why do you want to go back?"

"Because I have no other choice. It's been practically my life since I was 18."

At this, Stiles turned his head and looked at Derek. Derek looked back at him, but didn't say anything. He just waited. Eventually, Stiles blinked and asked slowly. "You've been in the army since you were 18?"

"I have," Derek nodded.

"Why in the fucking world would you do that?"

At that Derek visibly tensed and Stiles  _knew_  that he went into a dangerous territory. Stiles and his big mouth and no-filter brain. He wanted to punch himself repeatedly in the kidney, or just drown himself in the sea. He didn't have the right to ask this kind of question. He knew that there was a story behind all of this. Behind all of Derek. But it wasn't Stiles' place to ask such questions.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. It wasn't my place to ask. You know how I am. Loud mouthed and no filter… so, I'm sorry."

"No, no, don't apologize. It's okay, really," said Derek, shrugging. But his face was still unreadable. Nor did he answer why he had been in the army since he was a teen.

They sat in silence for a while. Seagulls soared above them, the rush of the waves was soothing. In the distance Stiles could hear the voices and cheers of the people who lived there. It was relaxing.

"I want to go back, because there is still a job that needs to be done. I have a lot of people who are depending on me and my presence there. I have friends and acquaintances, and they are all waiting for me to come back."

"Why did you leave there then?"

"I left, because sometimes, the strongest people need a break. It was getting too much there. I've seen enough to…" Derek broke there and heaved a heavy breath out. "I needed a break."

Stiles nodded. He didn't understand, he would've been stupid to even try and understand what Derek went through when he was in Iraq. So he just nodded and Derek's tense body started to melt into his previous stance. After that, they didn't say anything to each other.

They got up, and walked back to the house, where their friends were waiting for them to come back to go back to the city. Derek would keep glancing at Stiles from the corner of his eyes as they tried to tidy up the place as best as they could. And Stiles wouldn't even look at him.

Something had been broken in their weird sort of friendship. When they talked at the dock an hour ago. Something was different about them. Stiles could feel it in the way that Derek carried himself around Stiles now. It was small and subtle, but Stiles could feel it. He marked it as a progress.

* * *

Stiles wanted the days to last. He really wanted the time to simply stop, but it didn't. It wasn't like Stiles saw Derek every day, no. It was the fact that Stiles didn't want Derek to leave. It was weird, really. Stiles and Derek didn't know each other that closely, but Stiles felt like… he didn't know what he felt, but he knew that there was  _something_  there. It was like an itch, deep inside his gut that would go away anytime Derek's name was mentioned, or when he would see him.

That's how Stiles found himself sitting in his Jeep and driving aimlessly around the town. Not knowing where he was going or what he was doing, but he ended up parking in front of a bookstore. He got out of the car and walked inside the bookstore. It was filled with mostly teenagers who needed to buy school supplies. Since the school year was going to start in a week also.

Stiles walked around aimlessly, pausing here and there, checking out some of the stuff on the shelves. After some exploring, he went up the stairs where the Literature section were. This floor was void of school teenagers.

The floor was vast. Which gave Stiles some space to walk around as freely as he liked. He liked having his space as he explored for books he hadn't read before. So he started to search.

Few minutes later, he had more than ten books in his arms. He was standing close to the shelf, trying to readjust his books to add another book to the pile. And Stiles, being Stiles, was flailing uncontrollably where he was standing. His books were almost out of his hand and tumbling to the floor when there was someone by his side in a second and was holding the books up in their hands.

Stiles' head swiveled around and saw that it was Derek Hale, with perfectly trimmed hair and beard. Wearing white button down shirt, with sleeves folded till his elbows. He was wearing black tailored pants and black shoes. He looked edible and Stiles was gaping. He felt under _ **-**_ dressed compared to Derek, with his gray t-shirt and red plaid shirt over it, and his worn out jeans and sneakers. His hair was a disarray, wherein Derek's looked tamed.

"Need a hand?" asked Derek and Stiles snapped out of his trance like state.

"Uh yeah, thanks. I just needed to grab one more book," said Stiles as he handed his books to Derek.

"College stuff?" Derek adjusted the books in his arms and looked at Stiles reaching up to grab whatever book he wanted.

"Huh? No. Just some things to read, to pass the time till college start."

Derek stared at him for a moment and then frowned, "Wait, you're planning on reading ten books in less than 2 weeks?"

Stiles let out a 'yes!' of victory as he grabbed the book and turned around to face Derek. He nodded and replied, "Yeah. I'll read these guys in a week if I have to. I like reading."

"I like reading as well, but I don't go through them that fast, though," Derek said and grabbed the book that Stiles' just picked up, holding the other books in his other hand. He read the cover and quirked up an eyebrow, "American Gods?"

Stiles nodded excitedly. "Yes. They are pretty awesome, or so I have heard. I thought to give it a chance."

"Huh…" said Derek and added to the pile of books he was holding. They started walking down another isle in silence.

Stiles cleared his throat and said, "You look pretty handsome."

"Thank you."

More silence followed after that.

Stiles ran a hand through his hair and asked, "Got any reason for wearing such clothes?"

"I had another interview with my staff sergeant about me living in 2 days. So I had to dress appropriately."

Stiles frowned and turned around to look at Derek, his hand resting over the shelf. Derek adjusted the books again and looked at Stiles, waiting. "You're leaving in two days?"

"Yes," Derek nodded.

"Okay."

They stared at each other for a bit, not saying anything. Stiles nodded and turned and started to walk. His mind was whirling with thoughts. Derek was leaving in two days. It all seemed too real right now. It wasn't like it wasn't going to happen sooner or later, but the whole thing was absurd in his mind. Derek was still young to go and fight so many, even if he was 37. He still looked young to Stiles, maybe it was because of the fact that Derek looked young when he smiled or talked about the things that made him happy inside? Or maybe it was the fact that Derek never really had a young-adult life? Where he could enjoy being who he was and explore all the possibilities that would make Derek whole.

Stiles didn't understand it. Didn't understand the fact that Derek sacrificed himself to the US army and now he was sacrificing his life for these people who didn't know Derek, and had never heard of him. Maybe someday he would become famous for all the heroic things he had done for these people? Maybe someday he would be remembered by everyone? Stiles sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It was unfair. This whole thing was unfair. Derek didn't have to go.

"Are you okay?" Derek's voice cut through his thoughts and Stiles looked up Derek's concerned face.

Stiles tried to smile, but he probably didn't look as convincing as he thought he did, because Derek's frown burrowed even more. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking."

"You mean, overthinking?"

Stiles chuckled, "Not really."

Derek stared at him for a minute or two, and then asked, "Is there something you want to tell me, Stiles? Is there  _anything_  you want to tell me?"

Derek's eyes were so light and huge that Stiles couldn't tear his eyes away from them even if World War III started in the background. He looked so handsome that Stiles wanted nothing more than to crash Derek to him and never let him go.

Stiles realized that he was attracted to Derek, and there was nothing that he could do to make Derek stay. For all Stiles knew, Derek could've been married, or be straight. He didn't know. But he knew this for sure; he'd never have chance with someone as Derek.

So, he just shook his head and smiled at Derek reassuringly. "No, I don't have anything to say."

Derek looked at him for a minute, and then he nodded. He looked as if he was disappointed. But Stiles wasn't sure. Together they made their way down the stairs. Stiles paid for his books and they left the building.

There was nothing that Stiles wanted to say.

Nothing would make any difference anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a review or two :) keeps me motivated!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sneak peek from the chapter: No. Derek didn’t know what love was. Derek didn’t believe in love at first sight. But Stiles felt more like… home. Someone to lean on. Someone to go to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I used a sentence or two in Arabic, but I wrote it in English letters and added the translation right next to it.

**Derek POV:**

The sun was beating hard on the window of the bus where Derek Hale was sitting. He squinted his eyes and tried hard not to feel down as the bus bumped him and his comrades to their usual post. The suit was hot and heavy on him. His hat was warm, but it kept him shielded from the direct sunlight. He tried not to think about his one month vacation, but he failed as Stiles’ face re-appeared in his mind’s eye. He had given up trying not to think about him, like an hour ago, but it was to no avail.

 

From the moment he laid his eyes on him at the park, Derek couldn't get Stiles out of his mind. When he saw with whom he had collided, Derek didn’t know what he was supposed to do other than glare at him and snap. It was his only defense when he’d meet someone new; act all hostile and cold; as if his looks weren’t enough to give people the scare.

 

But Stiles acted as if he wasn’t the scariest person in the world. Maybe spending time around people who were fearing for their lives at every second did that to Derek. Maybe he thought that everyone should fear him just because he was in uniform and was, in fact, a soldier who would take your life in a second in time of danger? Stiles didn’t fear him. Instead, Stiles acted like he cared. Almost.

 

Derek sighed and looked around his surroundings. It was a beautiful city once, Basrah, but now it was completely in ruins. And to think that some of these acts were done by Derek too, was making him dizzy. He adjusted the strap on his shoulder from where his gun was and held it securely to his chest. It was an act of precaution. If there was a sudden attack, he’d have something to defend himself with. Derek was good at combat, taking few hits at the same time. He also well versed in Muay Thai, which came in handy when the need arose.

 

His new medal shined under the sunlight and Derek stared at it for a moment. He was now officially a sergeant. Derek looked around the bus at his friends, his comrades, who were going to fight with him for the next few months. He didn’t know how many were going to make it back, but he would be damned if he didn’t try to get them all back home, to their families, in one piece.

 

“You okay?” asked Boyd. He was a quiet one. He fought with Derek in combat, and they always covered each other's backs. Boyd had been his close friend since they applied for the army. He had a wife and twins boys; Kevin and Adam. They were two years old. His wife, Erica, was a stay at home mum. Boyd had applied for the army because he wanted to support his family.

 

Derek looked at him and nodded. “Yeah. Just thinking. You?”

 

“Alright,” Boyd shrugged. He was a man of a few words. It suited Derek just fine. Boyd was a quiet one.

 

They got out of the busand Derek quickly looked around; he remembered this place. When they were sent to Iraq for the first time, Derek was with a group that had to cover the railway station. It used to be a nice place. Now it was in ruins. Derek swallowed hard and gestured his comrades to follow him. They got a notice that morning that there was a hidden bomb in one of the buildings right down this road. Derek took his troops with him and they all made their way down the road.

 

Derek flexed his fingers on the gun as he saw Arabians walking past them, and caught a glimpse of terror in their eyes. Derek swallowed hard as he saw kids looking at them with curiosity in their eyes. Their clothes were dirty and ragged and Derek, once again, hated this job. There were way lot more people around this area than Derek remembered it to be.

 

The building was about 5 minutes away from them, and Derek was already getting uneasy. He had a bad feeling in his gut that he didn’t like at all.

Looking up at the building, Derek felt clammy and fidgety. It felt like the whole thing was being held up by faith/fate and a thin wire that might snap if someone even dared to touch it.

 

“Hey, Derek,” Derek turned around and saw that it was Andy. He had been serving with him for a year now. He was too young for military and hold a gun that was bigger than him.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Sir, I don’t think it’s safe to go up there, sir,” Andy said lowly. He always felt uneasy around the others, but seemed to trust Derek enough to share his fears with him.

 

“I don’t either, kid. But we have to go there. It’s our job,” said Derek as patiently as he could. He was always patient with his comrades in time of danger. “Alright people,” said Derek, his voice rising a bit to be heard. “Spread out around the building. If you see anything fishy let me know,” he held up the radio set. “Andy, you’re coming with me. Now move.” They nodded and in twos, spread out around the building. “Stay close to me, kid.” Andy nodded and held the gun closer to his chest as he slowly followed Derek inside.

 

Derek and his team slowly made their way inside, broken glass crunching under their boots. There was a slight breeze in the air that made the attached door to his left creek which made Andy jump and point his gun at it for more than one time.

 

“Nervous?” asked Derek in an undertone, eyes and ears perked up for any sign of distress.

 

“Mhmm,” was all he got in response.

 

“C’mon,” said Derek ** _,_**  and jerked his head to the left corner of the building. Andy followed him quietly, gun held close to his chest, ready to fire.

 

Derek knew how he felt in these moments. He was like this when he first got into the army; scared, nervous and trying to look brave in time of danger in front of his sergeant. He remembered the first time he was out in the open, guns firing, not knowing where to go, how to shield properly. Shooting at everything and anything that looked fishy to him. It was a terrifying experience. So he knew how Andy was feeling right now. He’d try to train him harder for the future, because Andy was young and he needed to survive.

 

A crunch from his right made Derek pause. He held up his hand to stop Andy from moving. He looked around himself; the sound came again. As slowly as he could, he made his way towards the noise. He flexed his fingers on the trigger. He swallowed hard, breathed calmly and turned the corner of the wall. He sighed in relief and shook his head in disbelief.

 

There was a kid, sitting on the corner of the wall. He looked around seven and was dirty and homeless. Derek half-lowered his gun and asked in as much Arabic he could muster up in that moment. “Enta bkher? (You okay?)” The kid nodded hesitantly. Derek nodded back and said, “Hal mkan mu aman. Yalla khali nrooh. (It’s dangerous here. Let’s go. Come on.)”

 

The kid nodded again and stood up. Derek nudged him in front of him and the three of them quickly walked towards the front of the building.

 

“I didn’t know you spoke Arabic, sir,” Andy said in an undertone. He didn’t look relaxed, instead he looked more alert. Good.

“Just a few words here and there. Been here for a long time not to pick up some words,” Derek answered his eyes roaming around themselves. Cautious.

 

“That’s cool, sir. I wond-“ He didn’t manage to finish his sentence, because the next thing Derek knew they were being shot at. They run for a cover behind a wall. They both got behind it just in time to hear a bomb go off. Derek ducked his head, shooting out an arm to duck Andy’s head under his chest. Trying to shield him away as far as he could. Andy was shuddering from head to toe. The kid was terrified. Derek swallowed hard and tugged him up. He rested his hand at the back of his neck and forced Andy to look at him.

 

“Hey, hey. Listen, you’re good, okay? Don’t fear anything. I’m with you. You’re safe. You’ve got this,” said Derek.

 

After a moment of violent shuddering Andy nodded, licked his lips and said, “What do we do now sir?”

 

“We fight our way out, of course,” easier said than done, but Derek was determined. He crouched down low and picked out of the corner to see how many were out there. He caught six people, fully covered with guns and bullets making their way to where they were hidden. Something caught his eyes on the floor. His heart clenched and he turned back. Back resting on the wall for a moment, he breathed in and out slowly. “Andy, we need to move fast. That-that kid is dead. Someone must’ve gotten to him. Just… don’t look at his way and fire your way out as fast as you can. The others are probably outside.” Just as he finished talking his radio went off and Boyd’s voice rang out from it saying that they were being ambushed and that they needed to leave as fast as they could. Derek gave an affirmative and told them to try and stay safe until he got to them. He trusted Boyd enough to gather his comrades to him.

 

“I’m ready,” Andy’s voice sounded determined and strong, and Derek was grateful for small miracles.

“Let’s do this.”

 

They both sprinted from behind the wall and started to fire as fast as they could. Derek injured two of the enemy, while Andy was shooting at their feet to keep them back. Derek knew what Andy’s method was; he didn’t feel comfortable enough to shoot them down, even if they were enemies. He just wanted them to back off so he could get out of here as fast as he could. A defensive mechanism. Derek was like that. He used to be like that.

 

Derek looked behind his back to see if Andy was following him. And he was, but it was a mistake of his to take his eyes off of the enemy. Suddenly, his gun was kicked out of his arms and before he could react his opponent kicked him in the chest. Derek was thankful for the years and years of practice he had in martial arts for his good reflexes, because he was quick to recover from the blow. He took a step close to his opponent and punched him on his left side. Derek’s right arm came colliding with the man’s chin. Before the man could recover, Derek ended the fight with a high kick to his head. The man’s head snapped to the side and he crumbled to the floor.

Andy looked at him with wide eyes. “That was awesome, sir,” he whispered, but he squeaked as one of the men shot close to his feet and he was back to firing at them.

It took them about ten minutes to leave the building. By the time they got out, Derek managed to injure them all in some ways, he even probably killed one of them, if the way that guy went down was anything to go by.

 

“Derek! Come on!” Boyd’s voice rang through the still air and Derek pushed Andy in front of him and into the bus.

 

“Go, go, go!” Derek said quickly as he saw more men emerging from the hiding. He couldn’t stay and endanger his comrades’ lives. They were outnumbered. They had to leave. “Boyd we have to leave as fast as we can. We can’t stay here. It’s too dangerous for us.”

 

“I hear ya,” Boyd said, foot pushing down on the gas firmly. “Do you think it was a trap?”

 

Derek thought for a moment and then shrugged. “I can’t tell. There was a kid there that got shot. I don’t think it was a trap.”

 

“False alarm?”

 

“Possibility.”

 

Boyd nodded and concentrated on the road, while Derek looked around the bus at his friends. “Everyone okay? Anyone hurt?” They all shook their heads, looking slumped and shaken. Derek sighed in relief, “Good job out there, boys.” Their faces lit up for only a fraction. Even though they didn’t get the job done properly, Derek still needed to reassure them that they were good. It was like having a small army of children. They always needed to hear the reassurance. They always did.

 

* * *

 

 

That night; it rained.

 

Derek didn’t sleep. Couldn’t sleep. He stood at the open flap of the tent, arms crossed over his chest. It was a cold night, but Derek wasn't bothered by it, as he stood in a tee shirt and cargos. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, enjoying the musky scent of the rain. He always loved the rain. It reminded him of his mother.

 

He reached down and took out a small wallet. He opened it up and took out his mother’s picture from there. The only picture that he had of her. She looked young and happy in the picture. She looked beautiful. She had long dark hair, big black eyes and a strong jawline. Derek looked just like her.

 

Days like these he wished his mother was still alive to comfort him. He always felt so cold. Like he didn’t have anything warm inside of him. He wanted to fill that emptiness with as much love as he could. He knew he sounded like an emo teenage kid, but he couldn’t help himself to hope for it.

 

Derek exhaled sharply and shook his head. Placing the picture back into the wallet and back into his pocket, Derek took a step outside and looked up at the sky. The rain was still going strong, and by the looks of it, it was going to rain the whole night.

 

Out of nowhere, Stiles’ face appeared in his mind’s eye and Derek closed his eyes. A small smile tugged at his lip as he remembered Stiles’ full body laughter at something that Scott had said. He remembered the small, secret smiles Stiles would share with Derek whenever they were around their friends. It didn’t matter that Derek didn’t really know Stiles, because times like these, the small shared moments between them, was everything Derek had missed.

 

Stiles was different. Stiles was someone that Derek needed. He was loud, sarcastic, annoying to the point that Derek had to tune him down from time to time because he  _couldn’t stop talking_. But… he was different in ways that Derek never knew he’d find attractive. It was weird. Derek didn’t know the guy, but he felt so connected with him that Derek felt like he had someone to go back home to. Sure, before this he had Jackson and their group of friends, but now it was different because it was  _Stiles_.

 

And just thinking about his name felt so right. Thinking about the conversations they had for hours felt right. The way Stiles would look at him when Derek explained something was enough to get him all worked up.

It wasn’t love at first sight thing. No. Derek didn’t know what love was. Derek didn’t believe in love at first sight. But Stiles felt more like… home. Someone to lean on. Someone to go to.

 

The thought was somewhat scary. Derek never really had that. It was exciting and scary at the same time.

 

“We have to wake up early tomorrow,” Boyd’s voice was low. Derek straightened and looked as Boyd came and stood beside him.

 

“Why aren’t you sleeping then? You need to rest,” said Derek, raising an eyebrow at Boyd.

 

Boyd rolled his eyes and said, “I am going to go back to bed soon. I just wanted to check on you. You’ve been quiet all day. Everything okay?”

 

Derek nodded, “Yeah. I’m okay. Just thinking.”

 

“What about?”

 

“Just some stuff that happened during the break.”

 

Boyd nodded and then said, “Care to elaborate?”

 

“It’s nothing important. It’s stupid,” Derek whispered, shaking his head.

 

“Man, if it was stupid, you wouldn’t look like you saw a unicorn.”

 

Derek snorted. Right. Because Stiles was definitely a unicorn. He shook his head. “You’re not going to leave me alone even if I’ll reassure you that I’m okay?”

 

Boyd shrugged and shook his head. Leaning against the pole of the tent and crossing his arms across his chest. Derek looked at him and shook his head. He rubbed his forehead and took a steadying breathe.

“How did you know that you liked Erica?”

 

Boyd blinked at Derek blankly. He tilted his head to the side and replied slowly, as if he was remembering. “I just knew that she was the one. As cliché as it sounds, I just saw her and I liked her. She just looked different from the others.”

 

“Different,” echoed Derek, staring into the distance.

 

“Yeah, man, she was just different. I won’t even feel remotely bad for saying this, but I felt like I fell for her from the moment I laid my eyes on her.” Derek smiled at the wistful expression on Boyd’s face. “She just felt right to talk to. I feel secured around her. She makes me feel at home, you know?”

 

Derek nodded, because that was the right thing to do here, even though he didn’t really know what that meant. Stiles made him feel some of it, but Derek could interpret it as someone who had a strong connection with him.

 

Derek knew that he was just trying to comfort himself. He was failing miserably. Whatever.

 

“Why do you ask?” said Boyd.

 

“I was just wondering,” replied Derek, trying to look nonchalant.

 

“Right,” Boyd was still looking at him weirdly, so Derek straightened and stretched his back.

 

“We better go back to sleep. Long day tomorrow,” said Derek. He clapped Boyd on the shoulder and walked to where his cot was at.

 

After they got settled and Boyd started to snore, Derek still laid awake and stared up at the tent’s roof. It was still raining outside. The drip-drip of the rain was soothing for Derek enough to lull him to sleep, but he was wide awake. His mind was reeling with the thoughts of the war, and his position in this war, and the military basethey had to leave for tomorrow, and the people that Derek was sure he was going to lose. He didn’t know how many they were going to be, but he wasn’t prepared for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> keep the reviews coming :)  
> I love hearing from you guys, it keeps me motivated.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek Hale was coming home.

**STILES POV**

Thanksgiving was spent by having a huge dinner party with his friends and families at Lydia's place. It went smoothly, just like Lydia had planned. Stiles was proud of her. Stiles and Scott stuffed their stomachs with too much turkey and even more pies that Mrs. McCall homemade. After the dinner and the desert, Stiles was too full to move, so he ended up crashing at Lydia's place. He was promptly kicked out by Jackson the next morning.

As the days went by and the weather got colder, Stiles felt like there was something that was missing from him. He couldn't place his finger on it. When he was at college in the middle of the class, he would feel this heavy feeling on his heart. More than once, he had to excuse himself from the class to go outside and get his breathing back to normal. He didn't know what it was, but it was scaring him. He wasn't having panic attacks. He perfectly knew how those started, but this was different and way worse, because he didn't know what caused them.

One Sunday afternoon found Stiles sitting at a diner with Jackson, Scott, Kira and Lydia. They were having their usual lunch date. Kira and Lydia were discussing the latest autumn trend. Kira was nodding along to whatever Lydia was saying, but it was clear from her face that she had no idea what Lydia was actually talking about. Jackson was typing on his phone quickly and eating fries with one hand. More than once Scott had tried to ask what Jackson was doing but he was met with silence.

"Dude's acting weirder than usual, man," Scott commented to Stiles in an undertone. Stiles snickered and bit into his burger. Jackson glared at him from across the table. Scott grinned back.

"Hey man, do you think you can help me out with the lacrosse practice for the spring?" Stiles asked Scott, who raised an eyebrow. "I wanna sign in. Apparently our college has a team."

"That's awesome, dude. Of course I'll help you."

"Thanks, man," Stiles said, bumping shoulders with Scott.

Jackson's phone rang at that moment and everyone turned to look at him as he answered it. "Wittermore, speaking."

Stiles raised both of his eyebrows, while Scott tried not to snort with laughter. Lydia shot them a glare and the both sobered up immediately. Whoever was calling, must've been important, because Jackson never looked that serious while answering a phone call. And he was nodding and saying "yes, sir" and "no, sir" more often than not.

"I understand, sir," Jackson said. "Yes. I will get him from the airport. No worries, sir. Yes. Mhm. Yes. Thank you, sir. Always nice talking with you, sir. Of course, sir. I will relay your greetings to him. Goodbye."

"Well?" Lydia prodded as soon as Jackson ended the call.

Jackson cracked his neck and looked at Lydia, a small smile on his face. "It's all good. He'll be home for Christmas."

"Who?" asked Stiles.

"Derek Hale."

Stiles felt like his heart was going to burst out of his freaking mouth from hearing his name. He cleared his throat and asked. "He is? How come?"

"Didn't he just, like, leave for the army?" asked Scott. And wow, Stiles thought it was a big ass secret that Derek served in the army. And apparently he was wrong.

"He did, but lucky for him, I can pull some strings to get him out of there anytime I want."

"Does he want to come back?" Kira asked, looking around the table and then at Jackson.

Jackson shrugged. "Whether he likes it or not, he is coming back. I'm not going to spend another Christmas without that fucker."

Stiles blinked at Jackson and then seemed to recover from his mini-shock, and asked, "Is there any other reason why you want him home or just that you're acting like a whiny brat?"

"And just for that, you're not going to get an answer to your question," said Jackson with a smirk.

Stiles squinted at him. "Seriously? I hate you."

"Aw I hate you, too, Stilinski." Stiles wouldn't be surprised if it was truth. The chatter was back full on and Stiles was once again left alone with his thoughts.

Derek Hale was coming home.

Stiles' heart didn't want to calm down even for just a fraction of a second. Stiles didn't know why he was feeling so excited about this knowledge, and he was going to think about this more. Later. When he was at home in his bed, with his own thoughts. And not out with his friends. He needed to think about his heart, and what was really wrong with him.

Stiles was getting excited for a person who, possibly, didn't even remember him. Stiles' heart sunk a bit. Well, that was a very depressing thought to have right now. Stiles didn't want to find out that Derek had forgotten about him. He sure as hell was going to make sure to tell Derek that he had always been in his mind. Well, not in a creepy way, but that he passed by in his thoughts. Constantly. Every time. Always.

Stiles sighed and looked up. Across the table Lydia was staring at him, with her head tilted to the side and a curious expression on her face. Stiles raised his eyebrows at her, silently asking what was wrong. She kept looking at him with that expression and then her face changed and she turned and resumed talking with Kira. Stiles shrugged and went back to eating his burger.

After their lunch date, the gang moved out of the diner. Lydia looped her arm through Stiles' and Stiles looked at her and smiled. "What's up?"

"Come shopping with me," she said and Stiles nodded without a question. It was apparent that Kira knew absolutely nothing, zero thing about fashion, that's why Lydia didn't ask Kira to accompany her. It wasn't like Stiles knew anything about fashion either, but it was Lydia. And when Lydia asked Stiles to do something for her, Stiles would never say 'no' to her.

Stiles found himself sitting on a plush couch of some fancy looking shop that Lydia went straight into when they got into the mall. She had grabbed some clothes off of the rails and went into the changing room, directing Stiles on the plush couch. Stiles was bored so he played some games on his phone while he waited for Lydia to come out.

"Get my zipper," asked Lydia, standing in front of him, with her bare back on the view. Few months ago, Stiles would've killed everyone, would sell his kidney, would even drive his beloved Jeep into the nearest wall to see Lydia's back. But now, it wasn't affect him the way it should've. He stood up and zipped her up.

The dress was short on her, just like she always wore. It was a navy blue dress, with a turtle neck, and ¾ sleeves. "You look nice."

"Thank you, but not the dress I'm searching for. Zip down, please," she asked Stiles, getting her hair up for him to get it.

"So, what's the occasion?" asked Stiles as he resumed his place on the couch. He laid his head back on the couch's back and craned his neck, just out of boredom to see how long he could stretch it.

"Just a dinner party at Jackson's. I need to look good. They're going to have some high-placed people for the dinner. And I don't want to make Jackson look  _bad_."

"You look lovely in anything Lids, don't let anyone tell you otherwise," Stiles called out as he started playing with the flower that was on the table right next to his elbow.

"Thank you, I know. But still," said Lydia as she came out and looked at herself in a full length mirror. This one was a white dress that had zigzagged colorful stripes on it. Lydia turned around to see her back, and pursed her lips in disapproval. "Hmm, no. Not something that I should wear."

Stiles internally groaned at the thought of having to play dress-up with Lydia for hours today. But it only took an hour for her to find the perfect dress for her (floral colorful short dress, with sleeves, that looked spectacular on her), and after that they just wandered around the mall. Lydia was silent for a long time, but as they headed towards the men's store, Lydia tugged him in and claimed that he needed a new shirt and new jeans.

"Why? I don't need any new things, Lids. I  _have_ clothes that fit me perfectly, thank you very much," said Stiles, even though he still followed her inside.

"I know you do, but you need to look extra-cute a certain someone comes back," said Lydia, as she shoved multiple shirts in his arms.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, trying to catch a hold of them.

"I'm talking about Derek Hale, of course. What? You thought I wouldn't notice?"

"Notice what Lydia? What are you-hey, I like that one."

"Of course you do," said Lydia and added a green shirt on the growing pile of clothes in Stiles' arms.

"Now, tell me what you were saying. And be as specific as you possibly can," Stiles said as he adjusted the clothes in his arms.

"You have an obvious crush on Derek Hale," she stated it simply. As if she was talking about the weather. As if it didn't make Stiles' heart do a backflip so hard that Stiles' was sure it broke a rib or two.

"What?" he croaked out.

Lydia paused in her shoe searching and turned around. She faced Stiles and said, "You have an obvious, big-ass, gay-crush on Derek Hale. It's obvious because I  _know_  you Stiles, I know how you work. I've seen you pine over after me for years now. And I know how you look when you have a crush. Is it one-sided? Does he know it? No, don't answer it, because  _obviously_  he doesn't know."

Stiles was gaping at her as if she had grown an extra head. How in the world did Lydia found out? And crush? Seriously? Stiles didn't have a crush on anyone. "I don't have a crush on Derek."

"No? So, the way your eyes shone and the way you were all tense during lunch time was just, what exactly?" Stiles opened his mouth to answer. Nothing came up. Closed it again. Lydia nodded, "Thought so."

"Hey, that means nothing, okay?"

Lydia rolled her eyes, "Honey,  _sweety,_  everything that you do means something, ok? I know how you act around your crush, or when their name is mentioned. Trust me, I know."

"But I'm not crushing on him," Stiles said sounding desperate. "I, seriously, am not crushing on him. I just liked having his company."

Lydia narrowed her eyes at him, "So are you saying that Derek coming home has zero effect on you? Are you saying that it won't matter how long Derek will stay and it won't affect you in any shape or form if he'll make a move towards you? Or I don't know, ask you out on a date or something?"

Stiles stared at her, "What? He doesn't even like me that way!" Stiles shut his mouth right after he realized what he said.

Lydia gave him a smug smile and said, "Derek can be persuaded, if you  _are_ willing to do something about it."

"Wait, you want to help me get a date with Derek Hale?" Lydia nodded. "Why?" Stiles couldn't help but ask.

"Because you've been running after me for as long as I remember, Stiles. No offense to you, but it's getting old and annoying. I want you to be happy. And if it means that if I'm going to have to force a certain grumpy, old soldier onto you, so then be it." Lydia flipped her hair back and grabbed two pairs of shoes. "I accept a challenge when I see one. But I have a feeling that you guys won't need any push from me to any sort of direction."

Stiles stared down at the clothes that he was holding and then surge of fear that nestled inside his chest, "What if he doesn't remember me? What if he doesn't even like me?"

"If he doesn't like you, we'll find a way to make him like you. And I highly doubt that he doesn't remember you. You make quite an impression, Stilinski."

Stiles gave Lydia a crooked smile and leaned in to kiss her cheek. She patted him on the cheek in return. Stiles laughed at that and then straightened up. "Okay," he held out the pile of clothes, "Which one first?"

* * *

 

**DEREK POV**

 

"Hale! Colonel Robinson's asking for your presence. Right now."

Derek looked up from where he was sitting on his cot, wiping his belt. He furrowed his brows and looked at Boyd who shrugged. Derek placed his belt on his cot and stood up. His boots thumped heavily on the floor as he made his way out of the tent and the short distance to another tent where their Colonel was sitting at.

Derek went in and gave his colonel a salute, who nodded at him. He looked at Derek through his reading glasses, piles of paper-works were scattered across his desk, and he looked quite busy.

"You asked for me, sir?" asked Derek, standing respectfully in front of his colonel with his arms behind his back.

"You're going home for Christmas, Hale. Congratulations."

Derek was confused. He frowned and asked, "But I just got back, sir. I don't understand. And I certainly did not request a holiday leave."

"I know you didn't, Hale. That's not my decision. General Wittermore requested a holiday leave for you," said Robinson, riffling through some papers and files, trying to find the paper he needed. "Or the right term to use here is "demanded" a holiday leave for you."

"Did he say why, sir?" asked Derek.

"No, but it's a demand and I can't say 'no' to him, can I? Now, sign here," he held out a paper for Derek to sign, and Derek quickly jotted down his name there.

"But what about my team? Who's going to take care of them sir? I can't really leave them like that."

"Of course not," said Robinson, getting out another sheet of paper. "Sign the name of the person you want to be in charge of your team on your leave, and sign your name under it."

Derek wrote Boyd's name without hesitation and signed his name under it. He passed the paper back and straightened, "When am I leaving, sir?"

"In a month, close to Christmas time. He was specific in telling me that he wanted you home for Christmas," Robinson replied sounding bored and uninterested.

"Am I free to go?" asked Derek, because there was nothing else to do here.

"Yes. Send Boyd over."

Derek nodded and walked out of the tent. It was a hot day and by the time Derek went back to his tent, he was sweating all over again. "Boyd," he called out. "Robinson wants to see you."

Boyd frowned and looked at Derek. "Why?"

Derek shrugged and flopped back on his cot, draping his forearm over his eyes as Boyd left.

It had been a calm week. The time passed by slowly. There wasn't any sudden attacks, or explosives going off here and there. It was just calm and quiet. Awfully quiet.

Derek didn't like it when it get like this. When there wasn't anything happening but Derek was  _sure_  that something  _was_  going to happen. And it was going to happen very soon and in a very ugly way. For that thought alone, Derek didn't want to leave. He didn't want to leave his team alone. What if something bad happened? What if Boyd got too hot-headed and marched into the battle field without a second thought? What if Andy in time of danger lost his control and damaged him permanently? What about the others when they'd need his constant reassurance that they did great? Derek breathed out slowly and tried to relax his mind. It was fruitless, of course, but he was  _trying_.

"Dude, you're a fucking asshole, you know that?" Derek let his hand drop from his eyes and looked at Boyd, his eyebrow raised. Boyd was scowling at him with pursed lips.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" asked Derek.

"Why did you assigned me as a person who'd look after your team?" asked Boyd, sitting down on his cot. He didn't look angry, he just looked confused.

"Because I've seen your work, Boyd. I know how you work," said Derek swinging his legs over the cot and sitting up.

"They won't listen to me."

"I thought that as well the first time they assigned me as a sergeant, but it look like I've been working myself up for nothing."

"Yeah, well, you're different and they  _do_  listen to you. But they definitely won't listen to me," said Boyd, pointing his finger at him for good measure.

Derek rolled his eyes and said, "Look, I'll even talk to them and  _force_  them to behave, if you want me to."

Boyd frowned at him, shook his head and laid down on the bed. "If we make out from this alive, I'm going to personally murder you."

"Your kids will be devastated if you do that. I don't think you'd want your kids to hate you forever."

"Whatever. I'm going to take a nap now and not think about beating your face into a bloody pulp."

Derek only grinned at him because he knew that Boyd was secretly pleased about this. But Boyd was  _Boyd_ , so Derek didn't push him or talked to him about it. It was unnecessary. Boyd would be fine and his team was going to listen to Boyd without even Derek talking to them about it. Otherwise, they had no other choice but to listen to him.

Another matter was the fact that General Wittermore requested a vacation for Derek. He knew that it was Jackson's doing, but it still shook him. Derek was sure that Jackson was acting like a spoiled little brat again and was demanding things to be done his way. He succeeded, but whatever. He should've told Derek about this first and then do things like this. But it was Jackson.

Derek was having a very hard time describing his friends.

Thinking about his friends, which were practically Jackson's friends, made him think about Stiles. Stiles who accepted Derek the way he was. Stiles who was, probably, the only friend that Derek let himself go.

Stiles who would probably all but forgotten about him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, awesome Jackson or what? :D
> 
> Reviews are always welcome! :)  
> (psst, especially when it's my Birthday on the 6th!)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Uhm... you’re not Lydia.”

**Lydia:**   _Derek's here!_

**Lydia:** _Stiles, you better wake up, get really pretty and move your cute little butt to Jackson's._

**Lydia:** _And when I say pretty, I MEAN pretty, okay?_

**Lydia:** _STILES! WAKE UP!_

Stiles face was puckered and smashed against his pillow as he read Lydia's messages that morning. It was really early for a holiday. Stiles blinked several times, and then his eyes drooped close, his phone went limp in his fingers, his phone almost falling from his hand. He jerked awake when his phone started ringing.

"Lydia, oh my god, I was SLEEPING," Stiles mumbled into his phone.

"Uh…hi."

It was a male's voice. "Uhm... you're not Lydia." Stiles blinked at his screen and saw that it was an unfamiliar number. He put his phone back to his ear and frowned. "Who are you and how did you get this number? Seriously, if you're a troll, you need to get a life and my dad's the sheriff so you better have a perfect excuse why you have my number or I swear to go-"

"It's Derek."

Stiles choked on his tongue and he scrambled up to sit properly as he coughed. "Hey!" he croaked out as he got his breathing back to normal.

"Are you okay? Is this a bad time? I told Lydia that you probably were asleep, but she was-"

"No, no, no. Dude, it's okay. I was already going to get up because of Lydia. So. Hey. Hi. When did you come back?"

"I got here yesterday, at night. I have been awake since before dawn, but I think this was an appropriate time to call you?" asked Derek, sounding uncertain.

Stiles checked his table clock, noting that it was past ten, and rolled his eyes. "Yes. It's perfectly alright time to call me."

"Okay," said Derek. And then there's the awkward silence.

Stiles licked his lips and looked around, thinking of something, anything to talk about. His eyes landed on his Star Wars poster and he blurted out. "Have you ever seen the Star Wars movies?"

"N-no, I haven't. Haven't had the time to watch it," Derek said. There was some tinkling of some sort from Derek's line.

"Do you wanna hang out tonight and watch them? They're totally cool, but if you don't want to watch it I'll under-" Stiles was cut off again.

"No, yeah, we will. Sounds cool. My place or yours?"

"Yours," blurted out Stiles before he could think it over, because seriously? He was stupid when he woke up. He was going to bury his face in his pillow after this phone call. Because  _seriously._

"Oookay. Uh, I'll text you my address?" asked Derek, he sounded uncertain and Stiles wanted to smack his head against the wall repeatedly.

"Sure, you can. But I was going to come to Jackson's anyway, so we can go from there if you want?" asked Stiles, fidgeting with his fingers.

"Okay," Derek's voice sounded soft now. "I'll see you soon, then?"

Stiles nodded, his mouth going dry. "See you soon, buddy."

He ended the phone call, looked at the screen for a moment. He just talked to Derek Hale.

Derek Hale got his number and called him to wake him up from his sleep.

Derek Hale was going to watch Star Wars with him.

Stiles did not,  _did not,_  squeal and then groaned, flopping back on his pillow and covering his face with both of his hands. He kicked his feet on the mattress while whining into his hands. Why, oh why he sounded so desperate and needy with Derek? What if Derek had things to do tonight and he just agreed to hang out with Stiles and watch Star Wars out of politeness of his heart?

Stiles snorted. Yeah, right. Derek wouldn't agree to do something that he didn't like. Or so Stiles was trying to convince himself. A small part of him  _hoped_  that Derek just wanted to spend time with him because he had missed him.

And the cool part was? Derek hadn't forgotten about him.

Stiles grinned up at his bedroom ceiling. His eyes caught the clock on his side table. It was already time for him to move his butt. He sighed and stood up. He grabbed clean clothes, laid them down on the bed and then went to the bathroom to take a shower. Lydia asked him to look pretty, so he WAS going to try and look pretty. Maybe he'd wear some of the new things he and Lydia got for him when they went for shopping? And it was a cool weather outside. One of the many things he liked about Beacon Hill that it wouldn't snow in winter. There was just the sweater weather. His phone buzzed again. He picked it up; it was from Lydia.

 **Lydia:**   _You have a date with him?! HOW? He is saying that it isn't a date, but I refuse to believe in otherwise. You've GOT to tell me all the details._

**Lydia:** _AND he is telling Jackson that it was YOU who asked him to "hang out" with him? Way to go, Stilinski._

**Lydia:** _Where are you? Hurry up! The pizza's getting cold, so you better hurry up before Scott will come in and eat all of it!_

Stiles rolled his eyes, sent her a message back telling her that he'll be there soon, and headed into the bathroom.

* * *

**DEREK POV**

Stiles looked  _edible._

Derek was having a serious time preventing himself from doing something extremely stupid. Such as pushing Stiles against the nearest surface, in this case it was the couch, and kiss his half-opened mouth. He was listening to Scott who was telling something that was half-boring. Because if Stiles looked like that, then Scott's long tale was worthy of his attention or something. But then he didn't really know what Stiles' facial expressions meant so he was just thinking stupid stuff. As usual.

And the moles on his face.  _God._  Derek wanted nothing more than to kiss and lick them all from one point to the other. He wondered if Stiles' body was covered with them, but that was a dangerous thing to think right now, because no. He had a cute nose. And kissable lips.

Derek took a sip from his can of coke, just something to do, because he was sitting there, on the couch, and was Stiles-watching like he had every right in the world. Good thing that everyone was busy with something, so Derek was able to tend to himself in peace. And that was apparently spent by Stiles-watching.

He was wearing a tight, red, long-sleeved shirt with deep gray skinny jeans and black boots. His hair was a mess, like always, and he had a light stubble on his cheeks and he just looked…

-at him. Stiles was looking at him. Derek felt like he was a deer caught in a headlight. So he blinked several times and then looked down at the can in his hand. He felt a hot flush rising up his neck, and he was sure his cheeks were going to redden soon and he looked totally unattractive like that. Derek took another sip form his coke.

"Hey," said Stiles, sliding next to him on the couch. Derek shifted to give him space to sit down next to him. They were connected from shoulder to thigh and Derek swallowed. God, he was acting like a shy schoolgirl sitting next to her crush. Derek mentally slapped himself.  _Focus._

"What's up?" he asked, because he didn't know what else to say.

"When do you feel like leaving?" asked Stiles straight on.

Derek turned to look at him and  _wow._  Yeah. He  _definitely_  had to kiss him stupid because close like this, where there was several inches space between their mouths, Stiles looked more attractive. His eyes weren't brown, Derek thought they were before, but they weren't; they were honey-brown and they looked gorgeous. They suited Stiles' face, everything, perfectly fine.

"Whenever you want," whispered Derek, because apparently his voice didn't want to cooperate with him and speak louder. Stiles looked right into his eyes, his mouth was hanging open again and Derek could feel his breath tickling his own lips and he resisted the urge to lean in and kiss him stupid. But then he noticed Jackson at the other side of the room, watching them, with his eyebrow lifted. "I gotta talk to Jackson. We'll leave in a bit?" he asked.

Stiles nodded, "Yeah, sure. I'll be around."

Derek nodded back. He walked to where Jackson was standing, but didn't stop there. "Not here," he mumbled and walked pass him and down the hallway towards the kitchen, where it was empty. Jackson came in right after him and closed the door.

"Explain."

"What exactly?" asked Derek, leaning against the counter, arms crossing over his chest.

"Lydia's not telling me anything because she claims that it's not her place to say anything. I know better than to talk to that Stilinski kid, so I'm asking you and you better answer me. Like, now. What's happening between you two?"

"Nothing's happening between us."

"Yet?"

Derek didn't reply. There was a knowing smirk on Jackson's lips. The fucker. " _Fine._  I like him, okay?"

"That much  _is_ obvious, but what's interesting is the fact that you hadn't done anything about it."

Derek snorted and rolled his eyes. "Right. As if I have a chance if I ever make a move."

"Trust me, you won't be disappointed," said Jackson, seriously nodding at him.

Derek frowned. "What are you saying? Does he-It's Stiles, man. We are talking about Stiles."

"Yes, we are, Derek," replied Jackson in a slow, measured way. As if he was talking to a 5 year old. Derek wanted to smack him down. "But Lydia' knows Stiles, and I know Stiles in my way. And trust me when I say you've got a chance of  _this_  getting you somewhere."

Derek looked at Jackson, who nodded at him. Affirmative. Derek nodded back and then straightened up. "Okay. I'll just…" he pointed at the door.

Jackson rolled his eyes at him. "C'mon. You act so pathetic when it comes to  _love_  or something. Shit. Lighten up. It's not the end of the world."

"Shut up," grumbled Derek, but deep down he knew that Jackson was right.

Stiles was waiting for him in the living room and when he saw Derek come in, he stood up quickly and stumbled his way towards Derek. Derek found that adorable. "Ready to leave?" he asked with a big smile on his face.

"Sure."

They said their goodbyes to their group of friends and then left the house. Stiles' jeep was parked close to the door, so he headed for it. But Derek stopped him.

"Stiles? I have my own car," said Derek, fishing out his car keys from his pocket.

"Oh, okay. Cool. I'll follow you then?" asked Stiles, opening the driver's side door. "Which one's your car?"

"That one," said Derek pointing to the black slicked Camaro car. The look on Stiles' face was something that Derek would remember forever. His mouth hang open, eyes went wider and ashe stared at it.

"Dude…  _Dude_. This car! I've been looking at it every time it passed by wherever I would be and it's yours?" Stiles asked, wide eyes piercing Derek in his place.

Derek nodded and offered him a small smile and a shrug. Stiles shook his head in disbelief, muttered something under his nose that Derek didn't catch. But then Stiles was sitting his car and Derek quickly got into his. Derek left the first and Stiles starting coming after him.

* * *

**STILES POV**

Derek's studio was stupidly organized. Stiles knew that Derek was, probably, one of those guys who would be organized. It was in gray colors, had little furniture. Stiles walked in a bit more and saw that the bed was connected to the living room and the kitchen. There was a door at the far end of the wall which was probably the bathroom. There was nothing out of space. The bookshelf was filled with various books. Stiles waked to it and read the titles. Apparently, Derek mostly liked reading various scientific books.

"If I was in your place this bookshelf wouldn't have been this organized," commented Stiles as he looked around the studio. "I'm kind of a messy person. Isn't this kind of exhausting? I would've been exhausted in a second because, like, when your room isn't organized you can simply don't care about it, right? But if my room was like this, I would probably get lost."

Stiles turned around and caught Derek staring at him. Stiles swallowed and he realized that he must've been rambling. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Derek. "I'm sorry, I kinda do that. Talk a lot, I mean. So. Yeah. Sorry."

"It is fine," said Derek as he walked to where Stiles was standing. "I'm like this, because I was raised like this. And then the army happened where they demand from us to be organized." He gave Stiles a crooked smile. He jerked his head to the couch. "C'mon. Introduce to me to the power of forth, or whatever."

Stiles stared at him in disbelief, rolled his eyes, and walked to the couch. He grabbed his back-bag and took out the DVD's. "We'll watch in the right order." At Derek's raised eyebrows, he elaborated. "Some people watch it from 1 till 6, but the right way to watch it 4, 5, 6, and then 1, 2, 3."

"We are going to watch the movies  _not_ in the right order?" asked Derek. Stiles was about to snap at him, but then he caught the amusement on Derek's face and he rolled his eyes at Derek.

Stiles silently gave Derek the CD and he plopped down on the couch. Derek got the movie playing. He sat beside Stiles, a safe distance away, Stiles thought with a pang of disappointment.

He could admit to himself that Derek looked good. Way better than he last saw him. He gained more muscles, and his scowl was meaner than Stiles remembered. He still had a stubble and his hair looked soft to the touch. Stiles' hands itched with the need to run it through Derek's hair. But he couldn't. Not yet.

His muscles flexed as he adjusted his sit on the couch. Stiles bit down on his lower lip and looked away for a moment. What would he give to feel the muscle work under his hands… But he couldn't. Not yet. Half-way through the movie Derek leaned on his right elbow. Stiles got a waft of Derek's cologne and he inhaled deeply. He smelled really good. He wanted nothing more than to climb Derek like a tree and make out with him till the next week.

"I was afraid to come back," Derek spoke softly and so suddenly that Stiles got a whiplash from turning his head so fast. Derek's eyes were looking straight at the screen. Actingas if he didn't sayanything.

Stiles licked his lips and then asked, "Why were you afraid?"

Derek shrugged at first, fiddling with the hem of his shirt, and then replied in a whisper. "I…" he rubbed his forehead with his thumb, letting out a puff of laughter. "It's stupid. It doesn't matter. Let's watch the movie."

"No, no," said Stiles, sitting up. He got the remote of the DVD and paused the movie. He turned his body towards Derek and said, "Tell me what's wrong? What were you afraid of? You can tell me anything you want, okay?"

Derek looked up at him from where he was leaning against. He took a deep breath and then looked up at his fingers. "Have you ever had that feeling when you… when you look at someone and suddenly, nothing else matters? As if… as if you weren't searching for something, you were content with yourself, but then you see that person and you're feeling full? Like, there was this hollow place in your heart and when you look at the person and it's full?" Derek frowned and then looked up at Stiles. "I don't think I'm making sense," he laughed softly and Stiles joined in.

Only he was a bit choked up because  _Derek_. "No, yeah, I understand what you mean."

"Do you really?" asked Derek, now looking hopeful and sober. There wasn't a trace of smile at the curve of his lips, or on the crinkle of his eyes.

"Yeah. I know how it feels to look at someone and feel that," said Stiles, his chest tight. "I had that with Lydia."

"Had?"

"Yeah," Stiles replied, nodding. "Yeah. I'm over that. She is a great friend to have right now. She-she understands what I'm going through."

Derek's frown deepened and Stiles wanted to reach out and smooth it out. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, yes. Yes. I am. I'm just… I don't know," Stiles shrugged. "But we are talking about you. And I don't want to make this about me. You were telling me something."

Derek pursed his lips. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again and then shook his head. "Let's watch the movie, please? We'll talk after the movie."

Stiles would've protested, but Derek was already getting comfortable on the couch to resume watching the movie. Stiles pursed his lips and pressed play on the remote. He flopped back down the couch and they both stayed silent.

An hour later, when the movie finished, Stiles stretched with a moan. He sighed as he sat up and caught Derek staring at him once again. Stiles stared right back. His mouth hang open for a moment and then he seemed to get his bearings back to himself and then pointed at the screen, "Do you want to…" he trailed off because Derek was  _still_ staring at him. He had no expression on his face and Stiles had no idea what he was thinking. "I could go."

"I don't want you to go," whispered Derek and sat up again. He slid closer to Stiles.

Stiles felt his insides freeze, and his fingers go numb. His breath caught at the back of his neck as Derek lifted his hand and caressed his cheek with the back of his fingers. Stiles' eyes closed at the sensation and his face turned into the touch. He heard Derek's breathe hitch and Stiles opened his eyes.

Derek was close to his face. So close that he could feel Derek's breathe fan over his open mouth. It was enticing and he wanted to lean in and mix their breath together. His eyes flicked down to Derek's mouth and then looked up at Derek's eyes. They were so light under the dim light of Derek's studio that for a minute Stiles entertained the thought of gazing at them under the sunlight.

And then he couldn't think or breathe properly because Derek surged forward and captured his lips into a soft-soft kiss. Stiles' breath left him all at once and the pressure on his chest eased a bit. He lifted his hands and framed Derek's face. Derek seemed to tense for a moment, but then Stiles caressed his cheeks with his thumbs and Derek all but melted in Stiles' hands. Derek then wrapped his arms around Stiles' waist and pulled him close to his body. Stiles went willingly.

Their lips fitted perfectly together. Stiles opened his mouth willingly when Derek prodded it open with his tongue. In a second their kiss turned from soft to demanding and possessive. Derek crashed Stiles' body, his hands started to roam against Stiles' back and Stiles couldn't help the needy moans and groans that would leave his throat.

Derek tilted his head back and licked and kissed at Stile's jaw to his ear. Stiles let out a mewl at that, not knowing that he did so, until Derek huffed out a small laugh. Stiles' eyes snapped open and he turned his head to look at Derek's side of the face. He'd hid his face at the crook of Stiles' neck, a small smile on his lips. Stiles leaned in and kissed Derek's cheek, stubble tickling his kiss-sensitive lips.

"I want to take things further, but I don't think I'll be able to stop if we start," whispered Derek.

Stiles would've been totally on board with that, but he wasn't ready yet. "You're right, we shouldn't."

Derek nodded and his stubble scraped against Stiles' neck and he gave a full body shudder. Derek grabbed the back of his neck, lifted his head and attacked Stiles' lips. Stiles moaned and bodily arched into Derek. Sitting like this, side by side, was an awkward angle for Stiles so he slowly started to lean back on the couch. Derek went willingly. Stiles opened his legs and Derek draped himself over him. His full body an inch away from Stiles', as if he was afraid he was going to crash Stiles. He was holding himself up by his arms and Stiles was impressed by the muscle work that was happening on either side of his body. He wanted to lick every inch of Derek's body, but that should wait.

There were more important things to do right now, so Stiles took matters into his hands. He wrapped his legs around Derek's back and grind himself up on Derek. Derek whined and bit down on his lower lip, his face crunched up in pleasure. Stiles licked at his lower lip and started to move his hips again. If he kept it like this he was going to blow his load in his boxers in ten seconds. And Derek wasn't really helping the situation of preventing that happening, because he was grinding  _down_  on Stiles with renewed fervor and Stiles all but keened at that.

"Oh my god, oh my  _god,_ " Stiles whispered, hiding his face in his hands.

"Hey, it's okay," Derek whispered, nosing at his hands and kissing them.

"No it isn't," Stiles whined. "It was embarrassing. I came into my pants from about five grinding. Who  _does_ that?"

Derek laughed silently, and Stiles pinched his shoulder. "Not funny."

"It  _is_ , actually," Derek said and Stiles glared up at him. "You look cute when you pretend to be angry." Commented Derek lightly and Stiles gritted his teeth.

"I'm gonna kill you. I'm going to give you a slow painful death," the minute the words left his mouth, he realized what he was saying and the apology was at the tip of his tongue, when Derek smiled down at him softly.

"No you won't. You won't kill me, because you  _like_  me," whispered Derek and leaned down to kiss him slowly.

"Yes, yes, I do. God, yes, I do," replied Stiles in between kissing Derek back. He gave Derek a slow, deliberate kiss; silently apologizing for how he behaved. In reply, Derek gave him a kiss so passionately that Stiles went a little numb inside from the force of it.

They laid like that for a few more hours and in the end, Stiles fell asleep on the couch, with Derek spooning him from behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the Birthday wishes :)
> 
> What did you guys think of the chapter? Leave a comment or two ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I hate you,” he whispered at Derek.

"It is your what?!" Stiles toppled off from the high chair he was sitting on at Jackson's house in the kitchen.

Derek grabbed him by the arm and hauled him up back on the chair, rolling his eyes at him. "My birthday, Stiles."

"Why didn't you tell me before today, Derek?" demanded Stiles, looking straight into Derek's eyes.

"Because I don't like celebrating it," said Derek, shrugging. "Besides, no one wants to be reminded of their age when they grow."

They were all at Jackson's house after the Christmas party he held the night before. Stiles felt his insides go numb with the realization that probably everyone knew that today was Derek's Birthday. That  _Lydia_  knew it was his Birthday and nobody told him about it.

Stiles stared at him with his mouth open, shook his head and turned around in his chair. He started to play with his egg, not having an appetite to eat anymore. Stiles could feel several pairs of eyes staring at him but he ignored them. It was Lydia who broke the silence and everyone around them started chatting again.

"Stiles," Derek leaned on his knees and prodded Stiles side to get his attention. Stiles dropped his fork and turned his head to look at him. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you it was my birthday. Please, understand, that I don't like celebrating it."

"I'm not mad that you don't want to celebrate it, I'm mad because you didn't tell me about it. Yeah, I would've understood on why you wouldn't want to celebrate it. I just…" Stiles sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He licked his lips, looked at Derek and saw the expression on his face. He shook his head, leaned in close, kissed him briefly on the corner of his mouth and whispered. "I don't want to talk about this now, we'll talk in private, later, yeah?"

Derek grabbed him by his sweater as Stiles moved back, brought him close and kissed him again. Stiles melted into the kiss, returning it by pursing his lips close to Derek's. Derek pecked on his lips again and moved back.

Suddenly, Stiles remembered where they were and it was awfully quiet. He blushed and turned around to see all of his friends frozen in some sort of way. And they were all staring at them. Crap. Derek squeezed his knee under the table and turned around to drink his coffee. Stiles looked at him, silently asking for help. Derek only looked back at him with this innocent look that Stiles wanted to beat off from his face. Stiles glared at him and then took a deep steadying breath.

"That happened," said Stiles as a way to break the tension.

Kira opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it again. Everyone looked confused, aside from Lydia who was still eating her pancakes. She looked up and saw everyone staring at them and rolled her eyes. "Yes, Stiles and Derek are in a relationship. Yes, they just kissed. No, they haven't done anything other than kissing."

"Lydia! How did y-" Stiles sputtered indignantly and turned to look at Derek. He was still drinking his coffee. Oblivious to everyone. Stiles punched him on the shoulder, "Dude! Say something!"

"I agree with whatever Lydia just said," he stated looking around the room. Stiles stared at Derek with his mouth open.

"You haven't had sex?" asked Scott and that seemed to break the tension.

"No, because it's not the right time. And oh my god, it's none of your business okay."

"Wait," Jackson said and Stiles internally groaned. "You are saying that you have a boyfriend-"

"He-what?" Stiles flailed.

"-and you haven't boned him yet?" Jackson finished, looking bewildered.

Everyone stared at Stiles once again. He turned to look at Derek only to find him hiding behind his hands. Judging by the way his shoulders were shaking, he was silently laughing at the whole ordeal.

"I hate you," he whispered at Derek and then turned to look at his friends. "No, we didn't have sex. And oh, yeah, it's none of your business." He clenched his jaw, stood up from his chair, and walked out of the kitchen.

His friends called after him, telling him to come back that they were joking, but Stiles ignored them. He went up the stairs and into the room that he stayed in the night before. He sat on the bed and leaned his head into his hands. He sighed as he tried not to feel too embarrassed about the fact that he was still a virgin and his friends still remembered this fact.

There was a brief knock on the door and then it opened a second later. Derek came in and closed it after him. Stiles looked up at him and then stared down at his shoes. "Came to laugh at me more?"

Stiles heard Derek sigh and felt him kneel before him. He grasped Stiles' hands and pried them off of his face. He leaned in and kissed Stiles nose. Stiles' eyes closed at the gesture. "No," said Derek, looking serious. He ran the back of his hand on Stiles' cheek and he leaned into the touch. "I didn't came here to laugh at you. I will never laugh at you. Unless you trip and fall on your ass while walking on clean asphalt."

Stiles snorted at that, "Dick."

Derek grinned at him. And then he sobered up and asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just... I don't know. I don't like it when they make fun of it, you know? It's not like I don't want it. I want it, so bad. It's… I didn't have the opportunity to do it."

"Yeah, I understand," said Derek, nodding.

"Do you really?"

Derek nodded again, hand moving to the back of Stiles' neck, rubbing it. "Yeah. Cause my first time sucked."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It was prom night. My prom date was _ **,**_  uh _ **,**_  too enthusiastic. It blew before it even started," said Derek smiling softly at Stiles. "It was a horrible first experience. But a day or two after that we tried again and it was…" Derek shrugged. "It was fine, but it didn't feel right, you know? Maybe none of them were  _the one_."

"You're such a sap," said Stiles. Something seemed to ease down on his chest and he could breathe normally again.

Derek nodded, "I am a sap. My sister used to call me that a lot when we were younger."

Stiles smiled at that. His smile slipped off his face as he saw Derek's expression, "You miss her, don't you?"

Derek swallowed hard, "Yeah. I miss her." He looked up at Stiles and there was so much hurt in his eyes

that Stiles pulled him in close for a tight hug.

"I'm sorry," he whispered eventually.

"It's fine. It's been, what? 20 something years? But… it never leaves you know? It's always there."

Stiles nodded, "It never leaves. I know the feeling."

Derek kissed Stiles' neck and pulled back. He cupped Stiles' cheeks and leaned in to kiss him softly. "I was supposed to comfort you and tell you that it's safe for you to come down, because they are all on their best behavior. Instead we're hugging, and you're comforting me."

Stiles let out a breathless laughter at that and then shook his head. "It's okay. Honestly. This is the best comforting thing I've ever had since forever."

"Really?" asked Derek grinning at Stiles.

"Dude, your teeth are so white you're blinding me, but yes, really."

Derek laughed at that and then kissed him. Their lips met on a slow dancing rhythm that was getting familiar for them, and fast. Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek's neck and brought him closer. He opened his legs further and Derek shuffled close to him, arms winding around Stiles' waist.

Stiles pulled him closer, breath leaving him in one rush. Because when Derek hugged him like this, almost demanding and possessive, Stiles felt breathless.

Stiles pulled at Derek, coaxing him up the bed, and he went willingly. Stiles laid down on the bed and Derek laid on top of him, their mouths still connected and kissing. Derek prodded at Stiles' lips and slipped in after Stiles gasped open his mouth. Their tongues twirling and stroked against each other. Hands roamed carelessly around their backs and arms.

Derek's hand rested lightly on Stiles' thigh, squeezing it and bringing him closer by the hip. Stiles gave a full body shudder at the feeling. Their lips tingled from all the kissing. Stiles bit down on Derek's lower lip, in a way that it made Derek let out a low moan from the back of his throat. He gripped Stiles' hips thigh in warning. Stiles bit down gently again and Derek seemed to snap.

He grabbed both of Stiles' hands and pushed them down on either side of Stiles' head. For a moment Stiles felt alarmed, fearing that he did something wrong. But then Derek's mouth was attacking his and his worry turned into pleasure. Derek ground down bodily on him and Stiles arched his back to meet him. It was hot and he couldn't even scramble to follow Derek's movements, especially; the bruising that his mouth was currently receiving from Derek.

He moaned and groaned and tried to move his hands, because he needed to touch Derek, but Derek held him down and kissed him forcefully. This was something else that Stiles never thought he'd get. But now that he was getting, he felt aroused and scared him at the same time. Scared because there wasn't enough oxygen in his system to get him through this.

So he tried to slowly slow down the heated kissing. Derek seemed to get the message because he was turning his kiss to a more prolonged and slow kiss that made Stiles' toes curl in on itself. Derek's hands moved up and down his side and Stiles squirmed a bit and pulled Derek closer.

His breathing was getting back to normal, but he was still reeling from their make out session. Derek pecked him on the lips and rested his forehead against Stiles'. His eyes were closed as Stiles stared up at him.

"You really are gorgeous, you know that?" he whispered softly. As if he spoke a bit louder he'd shatter their small intimate moment. The only answer he got from Derek was the small twitch of his lips. He then laid down on his side and pulled Stiles close to him. Stiles placed his head against Derek's chest, face buried in Derek's neck. "And you smell really good. I don't know what you do, but it smells really, really nice in here. Can I just  _not_  move at all? Because this smell, dude. Heaven." Derek huffed out a laughter and pulled Stiles closer to him, kissing his forehead.

"If anyone hasn't told you, you're pretty gorgeous yourself," Derek whispered into his ear eventually. Stiles blushed at that and didn't say anything. Everything seemed to go tight inside him. Especially the area around his throat. So he turned his head and kissed Derek's neck.

They stayed like that for a bit, wrapped around each other. If they were back at Derek's apartment studio, Stiles would've dozed off for a bit. But they were still at Jackson's and he just made out with Derek like some horny teenager. The thought made him giggle a bit and Derek held him tighter. "What's so funny?"

"Dude, we totally just made out like some horny teenagers."

He felt Derek grin against his forehead, and he smiled as well. Tightening his hold on Derek, Stiles got more comfortable on the bed and closed his eyes, basking in the afterglow of Derek and his touches.

* * *

Derek was leaving. Stiles sat on Derek's bed and watched as Derek got his baggage ready. Earlier in the day, before this, they were laughing and chatting carelessly, but now it was mostly silent. Except Derek's movements as he packed.

Derek was shutting down on himself and Stiles' disliked the look on his face every time he caught the expression. He was changing right in front of his eyes. Stiles couldn't do anything but stare at him. He was hoping for some small changes, the small changes that would remind Stiles of the Derek that he knew. But it was rapidly vanishing into Derek. He was building up a wall on his face and something small broke inside of Stiles.

He hadn't realized that he had his eyes closed and that there was a hand under his chin, tilting his head up. "Stiles," Derek's voice sounded different. Formal.

Stiles opened his eyes and his vision was a bit blurry. "Am I going to lose you again?" he asked, his voice hoarse from keeping silent for so long.

Derek's face seemed to crumble at that and he frowned. Derek leaned in and softly kissed Stiles' forehead. "Never," he whispered and pulled back. He clicked his tongue, leaned in and kissed Stiles closed eyes, spilling tears that Stiles hadn't noticed before.

"I'm sorry," whispered Stiles. "I feel so pathetic right now. I shouldn't be like this, but I can't help it."

Derek kissed him firmly on the lips and pulled back again. He moved at the end of the bed and started throwing random things in his baggage. "You're fine."

"I don't ever want you to see me cry. Ever again. It's not a pretty sight to see," said Stiles, wiping his eyes with his shirt.

"I think you look adorable like that," said Derek, his voice soft.

"And you're a sap," said Stiles, but he couldn't stop the smile from spreading on his face.

An hour was passed by them chatting with each other and Derek packing. Their conversation stayed light; talking about Stiles' college time, and what he was going to do in this semester.

"I'm gonna try out for lacrosse in spring. Scott's been helping me to get back in shape," said Stiles casually.

Derek stopped and looked at him, "You play lacrosse?"

"Yeah, everyone plays lacrosse, dude."

"I don't."

Stiles gaped at him, "You don't? Where are you from? Mars?" Derek raised his eyebrows. "No, don't answer that. Obviously you  _are_. Because, Derek, dude, man, bro, it's lacrosse. Literally everyone plays it."

Derek shrugged, "Not literally everyone.  _I_  don't play it."

"Yeah, it's because you would've probably suck at it," but deep down Stiles knew that Derek didn't suck at it.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Besides, I'm more into baseball, then lacrosse," Derek said shrugging.

Stiles pursed his lips for a moment and then nodded, "Acceptable."

Derek just laughed at him and shook his head. "You're something else, Stilinski. I don't even understand what I'm doing with you."

"It's my moles and my charming sarcasm that keeps dragging you back to me. I know, I'm irresistible," joked Stiles laughing.

Derek looked at him, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. "That you are," he said.

Stiles blushed at that, but didn't say anything back. He didn't know what to say without stuttering over his own words.

* * *

**Derek's POV**

"You're adding an emergency name? Really?" asked Boyd.

Derek was back to where his team was situated. It seemed like nothing out of ordinary happened while he was gone. His team were on their best behavior, according to Boyd. Everyone were happy to have Derek back by the time they had to move to the borders. It was going to be a rough year, it seemed. Andy looked the same as always, but he looked more determined than before. It was a welcoming sight.

"Uh, yeah, I figured to add a name here," said Derek shrugging.

"I thought General Wittermore was enough for you. Since you know him and are best friends with his son."

"What does it matter if I'm adding a name on this god-damned paper? Maybe I want someone else to come and visit me, or take care of me, or whatever, when something'll happen to me. It's no big deal."

Boyd stared at him for a moment and then nodded, "I see."

"See what?" asked Derek, raising a skeptical eyebrow at him.

"You've met someone."

"No, I didn't."

"You did. It is all over your face. Tell me about her."

"There's no one, okay? I'm just adding one of my friend's name here. And that's it. Now, go and do something useful. And try not to get Andy fall over his own feet till tomorrow. We'll need him for the ride," ordered Derek and stared pointedly at Boyd.

Boyd only rolled his eyes and stood up. "Whatever, man. But I'm not letting this go until I'll figure it out."

Derek didn't reply to him. Instead, he turned the page of the papers that were in his lap and added  _"Stiles Stilinski"_  on the line where he had to write an emergency name. He hadn't asked or discussed this with Stiles. Not that he had to. Nothing really happened to Derek and he was sure nothing would happen to him before the war ended. There was no need for Stiles to know about this. Yet.

He stared at Stiles' name for a moment and then he placed the papers back into their files. He closed it and took it back to Robinson.

That night, Derek couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned, but it was futile. There was nothing he could do that'd make him go back to sleep. He sat up in his cot and swung his legs over the bed. He reached down under it and pulled out a box that held some of his things. He opened it and took out a notebook where he'd make small notes now and again. He opened it on a blank page, grabbed his pen and started to write a letter to Stiles.

_Dear Stiles,_

_I'm writing you because I couldn't sleep tonight. Tomorrow, we are going to head out to the borders, but I can't seem to calm down enough to go to sleep._

_I'm blaming you for this sleepless situation I've going on over here. I can't stop thinking about you. I can't stop thinking about the times that we had spent together. Do you remember them as well?_

_This is a very short letter, and I don't know what else to write here, but over time, I'm hoping I can fill the pages with stories and things that happens around here. It's my first day back and the guys seem to have missed me (don't tell anyone, but I missed them as well). There will be things to write about, I'm sure. I know you will already have things to talk about already, don't you?_

_Do I mean something to you to get a reply from you? Do I hope for an answer? Should I hope for it?_

_Regards, Derek H._

Derek looked down at what he wrote, re-read it a couple of times. He stood up from his cot and walked outside. It was a cool night tonight, which was pleasant. He walked towards where they had their 'mailbox' situated and he added to the growing pile of letters that his friends were going to send to their families.

For many years, Derek didn't have anyone to write to. And this was the first time he had someone to write to. He just hoped that he'd get a reply from Stiles. He never knew how that guy worked. But if their time together meant something, anything, to Stiles, then he would answer.

And he was thinking ahead of the time once again. He closed the mailbox and slowly went back to his tent. He sat down on the cot, closed his box on the floor, slid it back down under the bed, and laid down. His head felt lightheaded already and when he tried to fall back to sleep, it was easier this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments will be appreciated :)
> 
> PS: I'm working on making a playlist for the story. It'll be a list of songs that I used while writing the chapters. Some of them will be connected to certain chapter(s). I hope I'll manage to make it sooner haha!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To tell you the truth I wasn’t expecting a reply from you, but I was wrong. Apologies.

_Dear Derek,_

_OH MY GOD! I didn't know you had my address? I didn't even THINK that you'd write me a letter! This is so cool! Wow. Okay. Uhm. Things are pretty slow in here. I'm back to college. Scott helped me practice for the next Lacrosse game tryouts. Well, I got in (You should thank Scott for that, by the way). But it was totally cool and you should've seen me, man. It was awesome. The coach that had to, like, decide who'd get in or not was totally cool and awesome. So yeah. It was totally cool._

_I don't know how long it takes to send letters but I hope it'll get to you soon. And I have no idea when your letter was sent to me. But I got it on a one, fine, sunny morning, where I was grumbling under my breath_ _and cursing the world and my teachers who assigned us an early morning test. I mean who DOES that, right? I mean we already come to your class early, you don't have to, like, assign us anything. We are still going to learn and shit. No need to wake us up at the ass crack of dawn, am I right? PLEASE agree with me because seriously, I can't handle another Lydia Martin in my life._

_Just kidding._

_But, I do remember the times that we spent together. Of course I do… I can't stop thinking about them even if I TRIED. I won't do that. I simply won't. They mean_ _too much to me, they still do, so no. Not forgetting._

_And you should always hope for an answer from me. I won't let you sit on your thumbs and wait for a letter that won't come to you, because believe me, I won't let any letter come back to me unanswered._

_And you already know me so well! Of course_ _**,** _ _I have things to tell you, you asshat. I wouldn't be me if I didn't have anything to ramble on and on about._

_I've been spending more time with my dad lately, since everyone's busy with their own lives. I mean, it's not like I don't have a life, I do. What with college and stuff like that, I just miss hanging out with my dad. He is pretty cool. Maybe someday I'll introduce you two. I'll of course warn him to not tell you my most embarrassing childhood stories, because they are. Just. No. And I know you wouldn't ask for them (because you're such a gentleman), but I know my dad, okay? He'll stop at nothing to properly embarrass me in front of someone important in my life._

_Which is my first time, by the way. I haven't had a relationship with anyone before… I don't actually know why. (Okay, I totally do know why, but sshhh)._

_Are we in a relationship? Probably yes, right? Or was that just a fling?_

_Oh God, please do NOT let it be a fling, because I literally can't, okay? I like you way too much to let this be just a fling. It is not, is it? Please tell me that it is not. Pease? I'm going to be all over the place if I'll get a reply from you. Oh well, I signed up for it, SO I'm going to live with the consequences from now on._

_I think I kinda ran out of things to talk about. Look at me, running out of things to talk about. I'm pretty sure I'll write you another letter soon because I probably forgot to add some unimportant thing that had happened in my life._

_Anyway, I'm hoping I'll get a reply soon? I don't know how 'soon' is soon, but here's hoping that it won't take a year to get my letter to you and me getting a reply from you._

_(I don't want to sound so formal, so I won't add anything at the front), Stiles._

* * *

 

**Dear Stiles,**

**To tell you the truth I wasn't expecting a reply from you, but I was wrong. Apologies.**

**It's been a month and a half since I sent you my first letter. So I have no idea how long it actually takes to get a reply back from you/or when you'll get my letter. But let's keep corresponding? I liked getting your letter. The boys here were all surprised when there was a letter from me from an actual person, rather than a reminder of some sort from the General.**

**Things are getting heavier in here. We had been at the borders lately, got back to the center for about a week, and we are going to go back in a few days. It's a road to the border and back kind of a phase in here. There aren't any big shots from them, yet. So I'm safe.**

**But it's mostly boring in here. I don't do much and I have no idea what to tell you. Other than that the boys are kind of fun to watch when they're bickering back and forth, you know? And I'm like the mother hen to keep them in line before they'll hurt themselves. I have a responsibility on these boys and if something happens to them, I will be the one who'll have to take the punishment for that. Sure, this harmless bickering is** **nothing to be afraid of, but they can get hurt. I want them to be close to one another so I will be sure that they'll have each others' backs. It's hard to maintain that sort of order, but I try…**

**I'm glad you're hanging out with your dad, and I do hope to meet him whenever I'll come visit next.**

**How's the new college year? Did you make any new friends? Tell me about it. I'm glad you got into the lacrosse team. I'm happy for you. I hope someday I'll watch play it.**

**Hopefully awaiting for your reply,**

**Derek.**

* * *

 

_Dear Der-bear,_

_Yes, I totally gave you a nickname. Deal with it. There'll be more, but in time. So be prepared for the awesomeness that I bring with myself!_

_I did make new friends, but they are more like "people-I-go-to-college-with", ya know? But they are pretty cool and fun to hang out with, so I'm not complaining. Since, like I can't see Scott and the others anytime I want to._

_Classes are freaking boring, man. Like really, really, boring. Why are they so boring? They are so boring that I learned the whole periodic table of elements. I mean, I don't need that information for the future, but it might come in handy someday? I don't know. Fun fact: I'm not learning any chemistry related here. Go figure._

_ANYWAYS! The only interesting thing about this whole college thing is Lacrosse. We recently had our first game in season. I_ _**,** _ _uh_ _**,** _ _didn't play. I'm still bad at it. No idea why they got me into the team, but I'm not complaining. Our team won though, so I'm happy for 'us'. I'm rolling my eyes right now, by the way. I just wanted to point that out so you'll know that. It's important information for some reason._

_Scott and Kira moved in together. I have no idea WHY, because they haven't even been together for THAT long, you know? But I'm his best friend and I support him no matter what, even though some of his decisions ARE bad decisions. I don't know which one this is; the bad or the good one. I'll figure it out later when Kira will learn about his weird eating habits or something. But I'm happy for them, that's what's important right now._

_I don't have anything personal to tell you, other than that I miss you like crazy and wish you were back home now… But I know you can't. So don't feel guilty about it._

_How is it in there anyway? Any luck of catching any bad guys? What kind of gun do you use? Since my dad's a sheriff I know how to use a gun. Yes, I have been an extremely curious kid. So dad taught me how to use a gun, but I've never shot anyone with a big gun. My question is: can I shoot from your gun? I don't think you bring it home with you, so never mind._

_But yeah, I wanna know how's your life there and how are you holding up? How are the boys? Are they behaving at all? Do you want me to come down there and cuff them behind their heads or something? You just tell me, esse, and I'll be there in a second! I'm just kidding. For all I know your team is_ _built like fucking tanks._ _Just like you!_

_Do you sleep? Or am I distracting you again? I hope not, because you need those sleeps._

_I still don't have anything witty to add here,_

_Stiles._

* * *

 

**Dear Stiles,**

**I cannot answer to your last questions since our letters are read-through and it's a classified information. But I will tell you this; things are going bad in here.**

**We are going to leave for the borders soon and I don't know when or how I'm going to send you any, if at all, letters to you. I hope you'll understand the situation without me elaborating about it…**

**My boys are doing great. They're all getting along pretty well now. I don't have to yell at them, if I can help it. We took down another town here a week ago (can't tell which place was it, sorry.) and it was good catching some bad guys.**

**One of my boys' got a camera with him (don't ask. I don't even know how he managed to get it onto the base). And it's a Polaroid. You… would you want me to send you pics? I don't ask Andy (that's the guy who has the Polaroid) to take pics of me, like most of the guys do here. They send them to their families and girls. So I thought I'll ask you first if you wanted a picture.**

**I'll understand if you won't.**

**We've got a new guy here. His name's Isaac and he is around you age, I think. He looks too young, though, to be fighting. I thought the same for Andy, but the kid's proving me wrong every single time we are back at the borders. He is a good kid. All of my boys are good kids, but they are still young to be here. They have a life they could live outside of this, but it seems like that nobody wants to quit… It feels like they're obliged to stay here and fight. And for what? For their young lives that they never got to live?**

**I don't want any of them to spend their whole lives in this. I've done the mistake of doing that to myself. I don't want them to go through the same.**

**I sleep, but not a lot. I'm used to staying up more than 24 hours anyways. Some days I don't feel like I'm myself, but it's not so bad. My body still functions like a normal human being, but minus the lack of sleep.**

**I'm happy that your team won, sad that you didn't get to play. Why weren't you though? I highly doubt you are THAT bad. Yeah, you are clumsy and annoying in your own way, buy since you claimed that you knew how to play it and that you've been playing it since you were at school, I don't you're bad.**

**I miss you as well,**

**Derek**

* * *

 

_Dear Derek,_

_OF COURSE you can send me a picture of yourself? What kind of a question is that? I want to have any kind of picture you can send me. Like, even if it's a shoe pic. Send. I won't mind. Seriously._

_I know how you feel about your comrades. They all sound like good people. Do you think I'll get to meet any of them? I'd like to._

_Things are going well in here. It is sunny here right now, but few days ago it was raining like crazy. I decided that I'm going to work during my college time as well, and not only during the summer holidays. I need to at least try and lay off from my dad for a bit, ya know? He's been working pretty hard lately and the tuition for the college isn't cheap either. AND I get to stop thinking about for 2 seconds. Like, you're always there because I constantly worry about you. How am I going to know if something but will happen to you? Through the douchebag extraordinaire Jackson? Highly unlikely. Though I'm buddies with Lydia, maybe she'll tell me if anything's happened?_

_College is fun to go to, if you leave out the fact that I don't get sleep as much as I want to. I keep reading and studying like the good little boy that I am. My dad is proud of my grades, so I'm totally cool with not sleeping._

_Scott's got this ugly tattoo on his arm and it's just gross. Like, what the hell do these two lines mean? I don't even get it man. I don't understand it. He says that it means something to him. Even though I dislike it, but whatever. It's his arm._

_Do you have a tattoo? I dig tattoos, but not his. His is ugly. Is it in a private place? Do I get to see it? Dude, that'd be awesome if I could see it! If it's no bother, I mean._

_I miss you a lot,_

_Stiles._

_PS: not witty, but it's something._

* * *

 

_Dear Derek,_

_I haven't heard from you for a while now, so I decided to write you another letter. I don't know what I'm going to write, but yeah._

_Anyways, I hope you're doing well, because Jackson hasn't heard any bad news from you other than that you've been pretty much knee-deep in the war and are currently at the borders. I don't mind waiting, I just don't want to get bad news from you, you know?_

_The other day Scott came to our Lacrosse practice and Matt (he is a creep, but he knows how to handle a camera) snapped a picture of us together._

__   


_Yeah, I got a buzz cut. I don't know why I did it. I guess I was kind of bored… The last time I got a buzz cut was when my mum in the hospital. Anyways, I thought you'd want to have a picture of me with you? I don't know why I thought that. But if you don't want it, you can, like, totally burn it or something. I'll ask Matt for a copy of it for me._

_This is the shortest letter I ever wrote to you, I think._

_Still waiting for your letter,_

_Stiles._

* * *

 

**Dear Stiles,**

**I'm sorry I couldn't get back to you sooner. I've been at the border for the last couple of weeks and it's getting bad here, and really fast. I don't know how I can hold on to communicating with you, but I hope you will understand that I'll try my hardest.**

**We've had a recent… death in here. One of my comrades. He was a great kid. He had been at the wrong place, at the wrong time. I managed to collect some of his stuff before fleeing the scene. I'm planning on sending them to his family. Maybe they'd like to keep them. I don't know. It just seemed right to do it, you know?**

**On a bright side, we've rescued a kitten from one of the ruined buildings from here. At first I thought it was a baby, since it was mewling at the top of its voice, but when I got closer I realized that it was just a kitty. I rescued him from under some heavy rocks. Since Andy is our kitty boy he tried nurture him, but he is kind of… attached to me. I attached a recent picture of me with Gus (we named him Gus). He likes sitting on top of my hat. I try to get him down, but he simply refuses.**

__   


**So yeah, that's me. Andy took the pic. Boyd laughed at my expression. I cuffed him on the head because of it.**

**I'm glad you enjoy your Lacrosse practices and college, even though you said you don't sleep that much? You need to try at least get sleep on the weekends. I worry about you. Constantly.**

**I have to go back now. I'll try to write you again, soon,**

**Derek.**

**PS: Thank you for the picture. You look gorgeous. Say hi to Scott and the others.**

* * *

 

_Dear Derek,_

_Thank God you replied!_

_And oh my GOD! You look so cute with Gus! Are you going to bring him with you? Please say yes. I didn't know you were such a sweetheart towards cats. I'm keeping that picture in my wallet so whenever I miss you I can take it out and look at your grumpy face. You look like you've lost some weight… Now I can't stop worrying about you._

_Try smiling more. I know it's hard there to smile about something, but you can try. For me._

_I'll try not to bore you a lot, but my dad seems like happier than usual? I feel like he is seeing someone that's why he is so happy. There's a smile on his face that wasn't there before. God, finally. My dad's been going around the house with this ball of sadness around him for years now. Since my mum died, I mean. He needs some happiness in his life. And if he wants to date another woman? Then I'm totally cool with that. I hope she'll be someone I'll know._

_College started again (yes, it took that long for your letter to come here). This year's a bit difficult but at the same time interesting as well. Apparently, my coach is going to allow me to play this season? We'll see, but here's hoping! I don't want to get my hopes up for nothing, you know? It'd be cool to play, though._

_I hope you're save and you're eating well, because seriously, I have the pic close to the paper right now and I can't look away. You look skinnier than usual. I worry._

_I miss you a lot, hope to hear from you soon,_

_Stiles._

* * *

 

_Dear Derek,_

_I haven't heard from you for months now. I miss you and I worry about you a lot. I can't sleep, I can't concentrate on anything. I can't even concentrate at work. I keep thinking about you. Jackson's no help. Lydia doesn't know what to do. And Dad's starting to worry about me._

_Please try to write anything to me, even if it's a sentence and doesn't make any sense. I just need to know that you're okay and well._

_I_ _ miss _ _you,_

_Stiles._

* * *

 

_Dear Derek,_

_Halloween was a blast. I went as a Batman and Scott agreed to be Robin. It was fun being around that many people. Jackson is a jackass, but he can throw wonderful parties._

_I didn't drink a lot, because there wasn't someone who'd take care of me and take me up to the bedroom to sleep it off…_

_I miss that person._

_I have more tests that will come in the next few weeks. I don't know how I'm going to manage to get ready for so many tests in such short time, but I'll try. I need to try._

_It's getting harder and harder waking up each day and checking the mailbox for a reply from you, but I have to keep trying, don't I? I have to do it for my own sake. I just need a small reply from you man. I just need to know that you're well. I just need to know that you're alive and not dead._

_How am I supposed to live without you? Who am I going to bug if I don't have you around? I can't live in a world where there is no you. I need you._

_My dad's been questioning about you. He is worried as well. We are all worried. Jackson doesn't show it, but he is worried as well. He said, although he did look reluctant, that his dad doesn't have any information to share with him regarding you._

_Are you okay? I just need to know, before I'll lose my head. Before I'll go crazy. I'm not ready to lose anyone ever again. I don't think I'll ever be ready to lose anyone to anything._

_I just can't…_

_I've been having panic attacks and more sleepless nights. I can't stop thinking about you. I need you to tell me that you're okay. I need you to give me a sign. Any kind of sign._

_Please Derek,_

_Love, Stiles._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I edited before the "due date" for my usual updates, because I needed a distraction from the disaster that is my life.  
> Tell me what you thought of it :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was the ringing in his ear again… Stiles gasped to get more oxygen in his system.

_The victor earns the title "The Great"_  
All the mysteries get unlearned  
All the history just becomes a string of dates

_The hordes overrun in a clean sweep_   
_Destroying everything that was built_   
_Where's the glory in making mothers weep?_

_~_

_The meadow that they were at was beautiful. It was shadowed by the yew trees that grew around the area. It was a familiar place, one that Stiles went to from time to time. But he felt like he knew this place through Derek. It felt like this place was somehow connected to Derek._

_He looked up from the place he was lying on the ground and blinked a few times as he saw Derek's small smile directed at him. Derek was leaning back against one of the thick trees and Stiles was lying on the ground with his head on Derek's lap._

" _You took quite a long nap," said Derek. His voice was soft and sweet in Stiles' ears._

" _I think I did," said Stiles, still looking up at Derek. "How long was I out?"_

" _For a while," Derek said as Stiles frowned. Derek was smiling down at him. His eyes were sparkling with affection and Stiles' breath caught at the expression._

" _Why are you staring at me like that?"_

" _I just like staring at you. Does that bother you?"_

" _Nope," Stiles shook his head quickly. "Not at all."_

_Derek's smile widened, "Good." He leaned close and kissed Stiles' forehead softly._

_Stiles could feel Derek doing something to his hair and Stiles raised his eyebrows. "What are you doing?"_

" _Just putting flowers in your hair."_

" _Why would you do that?"_

" _Because you look pretty like that," Derek answered, shrugging._

" _You look good," observed Stiles quietly._

" _It's because I want you to remember me like this, Stiles," said Derek fondly._

_Stiles frowned, "What do you mean by that?"_

" _You'll find out soon," said Derek his voice going softer. He was starting to fade and Stiles frowned at him._

" _Derek?" Stiles asked and his mouth hang open in shock as he saw blood spreading out from Derek's left shoulder. Next Derek's chest was covered in blood. He lifted his hand and Stiles saw that there were covered in blood as well. Derek choked and coughed. His lips smeared with blood as a drop left the corner of his mouth. "N-No." Stiles whispered and tried to touch Derek, but he was rapidly vanishing through thin air._

" _Stiles," said Derek touching kiss cheek. He smiled down at him again. He leaned in again and kissed Stiles' forehead. Stiles felt the blood tickling his forehead. "Remember me…"_

_~_

Stiles sat up straight in his bed, gasping for breath. He was covered in fine sheen of sweat. His pajama pants were clinging to his legs. His bed was wet from his sweat. Stiles rubbed a hand over his eyes, grimacing at the sweat on his face. He swung his legs over the bed and hunched over his knees. He glanced over at his nightstand and noticed the clock read 4:35am.

Stiles sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes again. Trying to wipe out the dream from his memory. It was futile, he knew this. He'd been having the same dream for over a week now. Since the last letter he had sent to Derek and never gotten a reply from him. The letter he had sent was 2 months ago.

It's been almost a year since Derek came back from the army. Almost a year since he had seen Derek. Stiles ached from the yearning he felt for the other man. He wanted nothing more than to have Derek back home and in his arms. To know that he was safe. To know that he was still alive…

Stiles shook his head, chastising himself for having such depressing thoughts. He stood up and walked to his bathroom to take a shower. No need to try and attempt to go back to sleep. He knew that he wouldn't succeed. Insomnia was becoming his best friend. And fast.

He took a quick shower, just something to wake him up more. He then got himself clean clothes and moved down the stairs and to the kitchen. He'd been staying with his dad since Derek went back to war. It just seemed right to do so rather than attempt to rent an apartment for a few months in the summer holiday or for Christmas holiday. His dad was more than happy to have him back in the house.

He hadn't mentioned that in any of his letters to Derek. Not that it mattered anyways, since Derek seemed to be pretty MIA. Stiles shook his head and got himself a bowl of cereal and poured himself a glass of milk. He sat at one of the chairs in the kitchen and silently had his breakfast before college.

He quickly ate it, washed his bowl and then walked up the stairs to get ready for classes. There was a half-written letter on his desk, which he ignored. He wore his favorite loose jeans and t-shirt with a blue checked shirt on top. It wasn't that cold outside, but lately, Stiles couldn't manage wearing more than 2 layers of clothes. He'd get antsy and anxious in no time.

By the time he got ready it was time for him to leave. He quickly got the coffeemaker going for his dad and then left the house in his Jeep.

The day went by rather slow for Stiles. He had fallen asleep during calculus. He didn't even remember how that happened. He was getting ready for lacrosse practice when there was a sharp pain shooting through his left shoulder and he winced and doubled over. He grabbed at his shoulder with his right arm and gently rubbed at the pain. Just as instantly it came, it was gone in a second.

Stiles frowned. He got a bad feeling in his gut. As if he was going to get a bad news soon. His breathing stuttered and he leaned against his locker and slid down on the ground and closed his eyes, concentrating on his breathing. He knew that he was having another anxiety attack. He sat there and rode it out of his system.

By the time he calmed down Stileswas covered in sweat again. He grimaced at his state and stood up again. He grabbed his outside clothes and quickly changed back into them. Not wanting to go to practice. He texted to his coach, letting him know that he wasn't going to attend practice because he had to work. Even though he still had time, he didn't want to run around the field still feeling like crap. He got into his car and texted Scott to see if he wanted to hang out after work. Scott replied back with an affirmative.

Stiles nodded and started his car, heading for his work. He cracked his neck as he stopped at the red light. His phone started to ring about five minutes after that. The ID read ' _Lydia_ '.

"Hey, Lids."

" _Hey Stiles, where are you?"_

"I'm heading off to work. What's up?"

" _Why so early? I thought you still had two hours till work."_

"I wasn't up for running around the field."

" _Okay,"_ Lydia replied with a slight pause. Stiles knew that she was just checking on him to see how he was. Just like she did every day.

"And, yes, I ate a normal breakfast and lunch. I'll eat once I'll get to work as well."

" _Good. I'm just checking up on you, Stiles. You don't have to be so uptight about it."_

"I am not. But thank you for your concern, oh friend of mine."

Stiles heard her sigh into the phone and he was sure she had rolled her eyes at him.  _"Yeah, yeah. I'll see you tomorrow for our lunch date. Don't forget, okay?"_

"Yep. Bye."

" _Bye."_ The call ended and Stiles put his phone on the passenger seat.

He got to work with an hour to spare, so he hung out at the bar, playing games on his phone, and chatting with his co-workers. They'd tell funny stories, but Stiles didn't even have it in him to laugh with them. He felt his mouth tug up on the corner, but it felt foreign and wrong on his face.

When did he stop smiling?

Work was slow. Stiles had to chat with one of his customers for about thirty minutes, because he had nothing better to do. They didn't have much customers during the day. Given any other day, Stiles would've been happy about it, but today he was feeling jittery and anxious. It started around eleven o'clock when they got closer to their closing time. He wouldn't stop fidgeting. He practically bit down on all of his fingernails, before one of his co-workers snapped at him and told him to cut it out.

He frowned down at his fingers. Not realizing he had done it. He rubbed his face with the back of his hand, feeling tired and worn. He felt a pain shoot on his right side. He bend over and gasped out.

"Stiles?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he mumbled quickly and took deep, steadying breathes. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. After few seconds, the pain dulled down to nothing and Stiles straightened. He looked at his co-worker, gave him a small smile and then got back to work.

Scott texted him during the last hour of his work, letting him know that he was on his way.

Stiles' went into the backroom to change his work clothes. He bent down to change his shoes, but as he did so his vision blurred for a moment. He sat down and pressed his fingers onto his eyes and waited for the pain to subside. He didn't know what was happening to him, but he was starting to get worried about it.

He slowly bent down and did the laces of his shoes. He sat up straight and sighed, silently thanking God for not having another head rush from bending over. He grabbed his shirt from the locker and walked out to the front of the restaurant to wait on Scott. They were going to go back to Stiles' house to play video games. They hadn't done this for quite some time. Stiles missed hanging out with Scott. Missed it being just the two of them, sitting on Stiles' living room's worn out couch and playing video games and simply forgetting about everything. He needed that right now.

He sat on the bench outside the restaurant and rested his head in his hands. He pulled out his phone and started playing a game, while he waited for Scott. His vision got blurry for again and he paused his game. Rubbing a hand over his eyes he took a steadying breath and closed his eyes. When the pounding behind his forehead stopped he decided to stand up and walk, maybe he needed to clear his head off.

The pain that shot through several spots over his body was overpowering. There was a ringing in his ear and for a minute, Stiles thought he was going blind. He fell down on the ground. He barely even felt hands grabbing him, when everything was black.

~

_He opened his eyes and he was back at the meadow. But it wasn't sunny, or filled with wildflowers. It looked weathered and depressing. Stiles looked around himself and barely had time to duck when there was a bomb going off several feet away from him. Stiles cocked his head to the side as he saw a somewhat familiar shape running behind a big rock and hiding beside it._

_Stiles was quick to follow him. He fast-walked his way to the barricade that was there and he hid behind it just as another bomb went off. His breathing was labored and he turned his head to the side. There was a guy leaning against the barricade, he couldn't have been older than Stiles. He was holding the gun close to his chest and his breathing was labored. Stiles looked over at him and saw there was blood splattered all over his left knee. He didn't make any other noise than breathing through his mouth. Stiles felt a bile rise up in his chest._

" _Hang in there, Andy. We're gonna patch you up real soon. Just-just hang in there." Stiles' breath stuttered to a stop as he saw who the guy next to Andy (apparently, the kid's name was Andy) was._

" _Derek…" Stiles whispered as he stood up. Derek didn't even stare at his way as he kept shooting from his gun on the enemy. He looked dirty. His clothes were dirty and were ripped at some places. He looked skinnier, somehow, but at the same time, he was built. Stiles' heart ached at the sight. Derek looked… Derek didn't look as himself. He was a very different person from the Derek Stiles got to know._

_This Derek looked lethal. Unmerciful. Inhuman._

_The sight scared the hell out of Stiles and he took a step forward, "Derek?" he asked again. But there was no response. The realization hit Stiles hard and he took a steadying breath. "I'm in your head," he whispered. "How, though?"_

_He instinctively ducked as he saw another bomb coming their way. "Cover!" yelled out Derek and he flung his gun on his back and ducked to get Andy's arm over his shoulder. "C'mon buddy. We gotta get you somewhere safe. And fast."_

" _I-I cant. I can't leave you," Andy's voice was harsh and his breathing was labored. Stiles swallowed as he saw another gunshot wound on Andy's side. He walked close to them, as if he could help them, but he knew that he was just a ghost there._

" _You did brilliantly," said Derek as he helped go down at the dug hole they had on the ground in a horizontal way. Derek made sure that he was safely down, when he turned to leave Andy grabbed his hand._

" _Where are you going? Don't go anywhere without me. I got your back."_

_Stiles saw Derek swallow hard and he patted Andy's gloved hand, "You did brilliantly. Tend to your wounds. I'll wait for you for the best shots." Derek said as he stared hard at Andy._

_Andy's eyes were wide with fear and anxiety, his lips parted as he breathed through them. After a moment he nodded and his eyes drooped. The others quickly got him to sit down on the ground as the nurse came running to him. Derek stared at him for a moment and then he turned away as Andy's sharp cry rang through the noisy air._

_The gray clouds rolled up as a lightening cracked through the air. Stiles looked up as the rain started. He looked back at Derek but found him moving to the barricade they had made previously. He had a determined expression on his face that was eerie to look at. Stiles wasn't sure he could ever forget that._

_Another bomb went off close to where they were and Derek started to shoot again. The bullets left the gun in fast motion. To Derek's left side was standing a tall, black man. He looked as built as Derek, with handsome features._

" _Do you think this is going to last much longer?" he asked in his gruff tone of voice._

" _They are getting tired and I can't see anyone doing anything after we'll take about five of them down," said Derek in a monotonous voice. "And then we'll get closer."_

" _No!" said Stiles in a desperate plea. It looked dangerous out there. "Derek, no."_

" _You think it'll be safe to go that close?" asked the guy as if they were discussing the weather. Derek shrugged as he concentrated on a spot and shot. "Neat." Commented the guy in a bored voice._

" _Ready?" asked Derek after a while as it gone quiet. Stiles knew that something bad was going to happen. He could feel it somewhere in his gut. It wasn't safe out there, and the cover that they had here was somewhat safe. He wanted to grab at Derek and beg him not to go, but the guy nodded at him. Derek held up his hand and motioned forward the soldiers that were under his command_ _that were hidden behind the barricade. Stiles hadn't noticed them before now._

_This looked surreal and Stiles was starting to get anxious to wake up from this dream, because he didn't like this dream. At all. "Come on, wake up, Stiles. This is just a dream. Another nightmare." He whispered to himself, but nothing happened. With labored_ _breathing, he started after the team. He couldn't see their faces, but they all still looked so young. The only people that weren't young were Derek and the guy that was walking right beside him._

_Derek was at the front, his gun held close to his chest as he surveyed the scene with careful eyes. The air was thick with dust and it was getting harder for Stiles to breathe. He could feel a steady pressure on his chest. It was an uncomfortable feeling._

_He took one steadying breathe and followed Derek to wherever the hell he was heading to. This was one of the things that Stiles had always been curious about. What happened at the war? What did Derek do? Was he the panicking type or the calmer type? Seeing as he was confidently making his way through the eerily quiet field, it seemed like he was the reckless type. Stiles stayed as close to Derek as he could. He was staring at him shamelessly because he had missed him._

_He couldn't deny the pull that he could feel at his heart as Derek looked to his right. He stared right through Stiles, but that was enough for Stiles to see the gorgeous light colored eyes that he admired so much. Stiles felt his throat close up as he noticed the pain that was featured in his eyes. They were dull and expressionless. His face was covered in light stubble and Stiles wanted to rich out and touch his cheek, but felt himself trapped at where he was standing._

_He looked down and frowned. His legs seemed to have disappeared, "What the fuck?"_

_The next thing he knew, there were people who were firing at them. Some of the boys from the team were quick to find a cover. Others weren't so lucky. He heard a grunt and looked at Derek. His eyes were wide open and it took a second for Stiles to notice the red gush on his left shoulder. "No…" he whispered as he felt the same stinging pain on his left shoulder._

_There was another shot, right on Derek's side. As Derek flinched, Stiles did as well._

_He was quick to realize that he was feeling the same pain as Derek was. He was getting shot just like Derek was._

_Stiles was quick to agree that this was the most terrifying dream he had ever seen._

_There were two more shots directed at him._

_Derek tumbled down on the ground._

_Stiles thudded to the ground._

_Stiles watched Derek's eyes flutter close and Stiles' vision turned blurry._

_There was a ringing in his ear again… Stiles gasped to get more oxygen in his system.  
_

_~_

Stiles jerked awake, a scream ripped off from his throat. His body was thrashing against the solid asphalt ground. He felt like he had no control over his limbs. He felt arms grab him and there was a hand placed in his mouth, opening it up further. His screaming was cut short as he gurgled and tried to fight off the hands from him. There was someone on his right, constantly calling his name; the voice was familiar to him, he knew that voice. He tried to reply back but he couldn't. He didn't have a full control of his body.

After what felt like forever, someone turned him to his side and he started to gag. He took a shuddering breath and he was turned on his back once again. His vision was blurred and he breathed as calmly as he could.

"He is getting his consciousness back, mom," said a voice from his side. He knew that voice.

"S-Scott?" he asked. His voice was nothing but a whisper.

"Yes, buddy. I'm here. I'm here. I got you," Stiles felt Scott grab his hand in a vice grip and he looked up at Scott. He was on his phone, talking to his mom, Stiles presumed. Scott smiled down at Stiles reassuringly.

He ended the call quickly and rubbed the back of his hand over Stiles' forehead. "You're okay, Stiles. You're okay…"

Stiles nodded and started to shiver. "C-cold," he stuttered and there was a soft blanket thrown over him. There were other people around him but he couldn't turn his head to look at them. He felt so weak. So tired.

"Tired…" whispered Stiles as he stared up at Scott.

"I know, buddy. The ambulance is on its way. You just gotta hang in there, okay? You're okay."

Stiles frowned up at his friend and then shook his head. "I'm not-I need to go."

He tried to sit up but he was pushed back down on the ground by Scott. "Woah. You aren't moving a muscle till the ambulance gets here."

Stiles shook his head and said, "You don't understand. I need to go."

"Where do you wanna go?"

"To Derek," said Stiles as he tried to sit back up. Scott helped him sit, but he let Stiles lean against him as Stiles doubled over. His whole body was sore.

"What do you mean to Derek?" asked Scott, his voice sounded bewildered.

"I mean, Derek's in danger. Derek needs me. Dere-" he couldn't finish this sentence. He was too tired to fight the exhaustion overpowering his senses. The next thing he knew, he fell asleep, with his head resting over Scott's chest.

* * *

 

It was almost a week later when Stiles got a call from the principal's office.

Stiles was sitting through his Lit English class when there was a knock on the door and the secretary asked the professor to let Stiles go to the principal's office. His mind raced through scenarios quickly; did he do something wrong? He didn't break anyrules, as far as he was concerned. He was lacking at his studying, he could admit as much, but it wasn't like he was the only person who was lacking in them.

When he got to the office he saw that his dad was there and there was another person standing rigidly right next to the chair where his dad was sitting. The man was wearing an army uniform. Stiles felt his heart breaking into pieces.

The man turned and stared at Stiles. "Stiles Stilinski?" Stiles could only nod in response. "I'm here on behalf of Derek Hale. He recently added your name to the emergency contacts we have at hand, in case of, well… emergencies."

He didn't even let the man finish his sentence when he collapsed on the floor, dry heaving and a sob wrenching from his throat. He felt like screaming. He felt like punching everything. But, suddenly, he felt tired. He wanted nothing more than to fall asleep for a very long, long time and only wake up when this whole thing was over. But he knew that it would never happen.

He felt his dad kneel beside him and pulled him close into a hug. He couldn't take comfort from the embrace, when his heart was shattered into million small pieces. He couldn't have it in him to care.

He only wanted his Derek back. He only wanted this whole thing to be over. He wanted nothing more than to be next to Derek.

It was painful to listen to the army man tell him what happened and why he was here. It was painful listening to the words leaving the man's mouth. Stiles manned up enough to listen to him till the end. He was clutching at his dad's shirt so hard that his knuckles turned white. And when he ended, Stiles was sobbing on his dad's shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo what do you guys think?? (does anyone know where that lyric is from? :3 ) leave a comment, I love hearing from you guys ^_^
> 
> PS: Good news: I'm being bombarded by a new Sterek fanfic plot. so yay more Sterek and writing!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I missed you so much, you have no idea,” he whispered softly.

Stiles burst through the hospital doors. If his mind wasn’t in total panic mode, he would’ve enjoyed the action wholly. But because he was here for his- what was Derek to him? He stuttered to a stop, before he got to the receptionist, and looked around himself. What were they? Lovers? Partners? Boyfriends? Stiles’ heart seemed to stop for a second before he let out a rush of breath.

He took another steadying breath and walked, calmly, to the receptionist.

“Hey, my name’s Stiles Stilinski and I’m here to see Derek Hale?”

The woman nodded and clicked on her computer keyboard for a moment. After some time she said, “Derek Hale, room 412. He’s been here for almost a week now.”

“How’s he doing?” Stiles asked. He needed some small before he went up to Derek’s room.

“He is stable,” answered another voice. Stiles turned around to see a young woman in her forties staring at him, with a kind smile on her face. “I’m Doctor Nancy. You’re here for Derek Hale, correct?”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah. Stiles.” Stiles extended his hand and she shook it. She had a firm grip.

“Pleasure. Now, tell me what are your relations with Sergeant Hale?”

“We -uhm- We hadn’t figured that out yet.”

The doctor cocked her head to the side, narrowing her eyes, “Well, if he wrote your name under the emergency contacts, don’t you think you haven’t  _figured that out yet?_ ”

Stiles felt a blush creeping up his cheeks. “Uuh- in that case, we are partners. I’m his partner.” He felt…wrong but at the same time right saying those words. He felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off of his shoulders.

“Good,” Doctor Nancy nodded and jerked her head to the side. “Come on, I’ll walk you to his room and will tell you how he is.”

“Thank you, yes,” said Stiles and quickly got in the strides of the doctor.

“As I said, he is stable now. He had gun shots on his left shoulder, right side, on his right thigh, and on his solar plexus. He’s got some cuts on his abdomen from the bomb that had gone off from his fall. And his head has a pretty big, impressive, bruise from his fall,” Doctor Nancy said quickly and Stiles tried not to stumble on his own footing, because this was too much for him to handle.

“And he is stable, how exactly?”

The Doctor turned and looked at him with a smile on her face, “I don’t like to brag, but it’s because he is in my care, Stiles.” She jerked her head to the right and said, “Room 412.”

“Oh.” Said Stiles. Now that he was standing there, ready to see Derek again. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to go in at all. He felt like he was being an imposter. He knew that he sounded silly, but he just did. He felt nervous and excited at once. There were billions of questions running around his head, but he couldn’t focus on any of them.

“Aren’t you going to go in?”

“Yeah, in a minute.”

Nancy seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then she said, “Just a small FYI, he was conscious when he first got here.” Stiles looked at her and waited. “And he was begging us to call someone. He kept saying the same name over and over again. Do you know whose name it was?” Stiles shook his head. Nancy grinned at him and said, “Stiles.”

* * *

 

Derek looked different. He wasn’t covered in soot. He didn’t look dirty. He just looked different. Maybe it was of the fact that he was pale as a sheet, his face was pretty banged up. There was a bandage around his head. The covers of his bed were pulled up high around his shoulders, so Stiles couldn’t see his body.

There were all kinds of monitors and wires connected to his body. There was the constant beeping sound of the heart monitor. As far as Stiles could tell, it looked steady. The oxygen machine was making these slow swooshing sounds and Stiles noticed that Derek had a nose-oxygen on. Staring at Derek made Stiles want to do two things; 1. Collapse on the floor and cry until he couldn’t breathe, 2. Drape himself over Derek, kiss his wounds until they got better. 

He did neither of those things. Instead, he walked to the armchair beside the bed and sat down on it. At least it was comfortable and wasn’t plastic.

Stiles felt exhausted. The hospital that they brought Derek to was in New York so he was feeling pretty tired after the flight he had. So, he turned on his side, hunched up his legs on the chair, and fell asleep as soon as he felt comfortable enough.

He doesn’t know how long he slept, but he woke up to someone calling out his name and his head felt like it was going to fall off from his neck. It was due to the fact that during his sleep time he had changed his position.

If it wasn’t for him, Stiles would’ve laughed at the way he woke up. At first he slowly blinked up at the white hospital room ceiling and then he jerked into a sitting position and there was the unmistakable high-pitched noise he’d made during it. It would’ve been pretty comical, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was speechless.

Derek fucking Hale was staring at him tiredly. His lips pulled up in the corners into a small smile, his eyes half-lidded from sleep, and his hand was out from under the cover and  was resting on the bed, palm up. Stiles stared at him for a moment and with a hushed “Oh my God”’ Stiles dropped down onto his knees, grabbed Derek’s hand in his and started kissing his knuckles.

“You’re awake,” Stiles whispered hoarsely. He didn’t had it in him to speak louder. He felt like if he spoke any louder he’d ruin ‘the moment’.

Derek’s lips twitched and he said, his voice scratchy, “You came.”

“Of course I came. I couldn’t not come. I’m so glad you’re awake and alive, baby, you have no idea how glad I am,” Stiles hadn’t realized it but a tear slid down from his eye. He quickly wiped it with the back of his hand.

“Stiles…” whispered Derek. He sounded pained. Stiles didn’t want for Derek to sound like this.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just… I’m happy,” said Stiles and totally ruined the effect by letting out a sob into the pit of his arm. He didn’t dare to look up at Derek. He didn’t have it in him. “I’m-I’m just s-so happy. Y-you’re fine. You’re alive. You’re here.” Stiles kissed Derek’s knuckle over and over again. He knew that he was leaving salty tears and slobber all over Derek’s hand, but he simply couldn’t stop himself. He felt Derek’s fingers weakly tightening on his hand, and that made him cry even harder.

Stiles hadn’t cried this much since the guy in army uniform informed him about Derek. He had kept it in and told himself,  _promised_  himself that he wouldn’t break down in front of Derek, because Derek didn’t need to see him like this. But of course he was doing the opposite right now.

“It’s okay,” he heard Derek whisper between his not-so-quiet sobbing. “It’s okay. I’m fine, Stiles. Just a bit banged up. I’m fine. Please.”

Stiles continued peppering Derek’s hand with kisses, because he didn’t know what to answer to Derek.

Eventually, he managed to calm down. His face felt puffy, and his eyes barely stayed open. He heard Derek making a distressed sound and he was pretty sure that he looked awful. “Sorry,” Stiles mumbled as he wiped at his face with the back of his hand.

“It’s okay,” whispered Derek. He moved a bit on the bed and his face grimaced a bit. He must’ve saw something on Stiles’ face, because he said. “They cut off on the morphine dose for a bit. From time to time I get this dull pain throughout my body. It’s unpleasant, but not worrisome.” Stiles nodded and didn’t say anything. His eyes landed on the glass of water on the bedside table.

“Water?” he asked, and Derek nodded. He grabbed the glass that had a short straw in it and got it close to Derek’s lips. He held onto the straw as Derek drunk as much as he wanted. When he was done he thanked him and his eyes drooped a bit. “You can go back to sleep,” whispered Stiles, touching Derek’s hand again.

“But I want to stay with you. I don’t want you to leave yet,” whispered Derek as his eyes closed a bit more.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” said Stiles, holding Derek’s hand tighter.

“Stiles, I wish this wasn’t a dream…” and then he was out.

Stiles stared at him for a moment. His whole body had gone numb from Derek’s confession. Did Derek believe that he wasn’t really there? Was he delusional? Maybe he had a high fever and he  _was_  dreaming? Stiles rested his palm on Derek’s forehead carefully. It was slightly higher than his body temperature, but it was to be expected from the drugs he must’ve been consuming for the last few weeks.

Stiles licked his lips. He let out a sigh as he sat back down on the armchair. He rubbed a hand over his face, pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt tired. The flight from California to New York was tiresome. So snuggled to his side on the chair and then he was out as well.

* * *

**DEREK POV**

_He couldn’t breathe easily. He tried moving, but found that he couldn’t. The sky was cloudy, it was probably raining, but Derek couldn’t feel it. It probably smelled like rain as well, mixed with blood and dirt, but he didn’t have his senses working right for him._

_Suddenly there was a face obscuring the sky from above. It took him a second to realize that it was Boyd. And then another to realize that he was talking to him. Everything seemed to be in a slow motion._

_“Derek! Derek, buddy, you gotta stay with me, man.” Derek tried to reply but his tongue felt thick in his mouth. He felt so tired, if he could only close his eyes for a second… “Don’t close your eyes. No, no, look at me, okay? I’ll take care of you. C’mon, man,”_

_Boyd. Boyd was asking him to keep his eyes open for him. So Derek tried. But it was such an effort._

_Stiles’ laughing face ran through his mind’s eye. “Stiles…” he croaked. Because that was the only thing that he could think of right now. Stiles who was at home and waiting for him. Stile, who he liked. Stiles, who_ liked  _him. Stiles, who was home…_

_He couldn’t breathe. His body felt like it was on fire. He couldn’t stop the scream that ripped out of his throat and into the sky. He couldn’t stop the blackness that took him over so suddenly._

_~_

Derek sat bolt upright. He was breathing heavily and was looking frantically around the room. He sighed in relief as he saw that he was still in the hospital. He laid back down on his bed and sighed. Derek frowned when he saw a slight movement from his left. Slowly, he turned his head and saw someone laying, at an awkward posture on an armchair.

That someone was none other than Stiles himself. His head was laid down on the armchair’s armrest, his legs were awkwardly strewn this and that way, and his mouth was open. He was snoring slightly.

Derek hadn’t realized how tense he was, but as Stiles moved a bit and mumbled something sleepily in his sleep something seemed to loosen up in Derek’s chest. He snuggled back against his pillow and stared at Stiles as he slept. He wasn’t being a creep, per say, but Stiles looked different. Even if he willed himself he couldn’t stop staring.

Stiles looked tired, exhausted, and yet, he looked… beautiful. Derek couldn’t even think of any other word to describe Stiles. It would’ve been comical, with the way Stiles was asleep, if Derek wasn’t this smitten by him. His hair had gotten longer than Derek remembered. Now there was enough to be pulled.

Instantly, Derek’s hands tingled with the intensity of this  _need_  to get his hands all over Stiles. But he clenched his hands and took a deep steadying breath. He wouldn’t make a sound or anything to wake Stiles up just because he had a ‘need’ to satisfy.

No. He was going to go back to sleep and wait until Stiles was awake.

Derek smiled at that. Stiles was really  _here._  At first he had thought that he’d been dreaming, that it was just a dream, a fantasy, just some sort of high fevered imagination, playing tricks on him. But he wasn’t dreaming. This wasn’t a dream. Stiles was actually there. Even if he didn’t know that Derek wrote his name as his emergency contact, Stiles didn’t even make a sound or anything, he just came to Derek.

Soon, Derek’s eyes were dripping, and moments later he was fast asleep. This time he didn’t have nightmares.  


* * *

**STILES POV**

 Stiles woke up slowly. He blinked his eyes open and with a groan he sat up straighter in his armchair. His neck felt like it was on fire from the awkward angle. He rubbed at it and stood up, stretching his back he walked to the windows and stared out.

New York was stretched out in front of him. It was different from Beacon Hills. Way lot more than Stiles thought it was. The buildings were high, for one. Beacon Hills didn’t have so many tall buildings. It was interesting to see.

He shook his head. He sounded like some tourist who was in New York for the first time. Which was kind of true, since this was his first time in here. It wasn’t like he came as a tourist. He just happened to be there because of circumstances.

Stiles sighed and leaned his head against the glass window and stared as the sun crept up behind the tall buildings. The sunlight glistened off the buildings. Stiles squinted his eyes and shielded his face with the back of his hand.

“It’s beautiful.”

The voice was so unexpected and so familiar that Stiles almost banged his head against the window. He whirled around quickly and stared at Derek; who was awake. Who was lying against his pillows, looking utterly exhausted, but alive. Awake. Speaking.

“Oh my God,” Stiles whispered. He stumbled on his footing as he made his way towards Derek’s bed. “ _Oh my God.”_

“Hey,” rasped out Derek. His hand shook as he raised it to brush his fingertips against Stiles’ cheek. That was all it took for Stiles to lose his composure. He dropped down on top of Derek and hugged him as tight as he could. The tears that he was holding in for the last couple of hours were pouring down his face in earnest. It was so good to have his arms wrapped around Derek that he couldn’t even think straight. He planted kisses wherever his lips could find skin. His breathing was ragged as he showered Derek’s face with wet kisses and then he planted a soft kiss on his lips.

Stiles felt Derek relax under his lips, tense muscles loosening and something seemed to unwrap around Stiles’ heart. It was getting easier to breathe now. It was easier to feel alive again.

“You’re okay,” Stiles mumbled, lips brushing against Derek’s.

Derek replied by nodding his head minutely. Stiles then saw Derek grimace and he pulled back quickly. “Woah, shit. Sorry. I-I-I I don’t know. I’m sorry. I just. Oh God.”

“It’s okay,” murmured Derek, a half-smile forming on his lips. Stiles gave him an apologetic smile, sniffling. He wiped his wet eyes with the back of his hand.

“Sorry, for… You know,” Stiles said gesturing at Derek.

Derek lifted his hand grabbed the back of Stiles’ shirt’s sleeve. “Come here,” he mumbled and Stiles went willingly.

He placed one of his hand beside Derek’s head and the other grabbed the rails of the bed. He looked down at Derek and smiled softly at him. “Hey,” he whispered and Derek’s lips twitched more.

“Hello,” said Derek. His voice was scratchy. Stiles quickly got Derek some water and helped Derek drink from the cup. “Thanks,” Derek said, his voice back to semi-normal. He smiled up at Stiles and Stiles returned it.

“How are you feeling?” asked Stiles, one hand holding Derek’s and the other running through Derek’s hair. Derek hummed and leaned into Stiles’ touch.

“I feel alright, I guess,” said Derek. “I’m kind of stiff, but the morphine prevents me from feeling pain.”

Stiles nodded, “That’s good.” His hand was petting Derek’s hair restlessly. “I’m just… I’m sorry. I’m still…” he couldn’t finish the sentence. His voice broke, throat feeling tight.

Derek tightened his hand around Stiles’ and said, “It’s okay, Stiles. I’m feeling alright.”

“I know, I know. I just…” Stiles shook his head and gave Derek a small weak smile, which he returned. He couldn’t find it in him to tell Derek that he had seen how the whole thing happened. He didn’t know how he was going to explain the whole thing to Derek, because he himself didn’t know how it happened. Maybe there was some sort of connection between them? He didn’t know. He would want to find out how it happened, but he knew that he wasn’t going to get any answers from anyone. So he let it go.

“How’s everyone back at home?” asked Derek, as Stiles grabbed the chair and sat down next to Derek’s bed. Hands not letting go.

“Everyone’s good. As I said in my previous letters, Scott and Kira moved in together, and they are all over each other all the time. Which is disgustingly sweet. Jackson and Lids are still going strong. They fight and fuck all the time. Which is annoying. Uhm… Ethan and Danny are on hot and cold relationship right now. No idea why. And Aiden, well, he is Aiden.”

“What about your dad? How’s he?”

“He is great. He actually wanted to come here with me, but I didn’t let him. I wasn’t sure, if… you know,” Stiles didn’t want his dad to come with him because he didn’t know if they were in the “meet the parents” stage or not. So he promised his dad he’d ask Derek for dinner sometime in near future.

Derek stared at him for a moment and then nodded, “I wouldn’t have minded it if he came.”

Stiles frowned, “Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

Derek shook his head and gave him a smile. “Besides, I need to thank him. Personally.”

“What for?” asked Stiles. He was genuinely curious.

“For raising such an annoyingly, amazing man like you,” replied Derek. A smile was stretching out over his face so big that Stiles couldn’t help but return it.

“You’re such a dickhead,” said Stiles laughing.

Derek tugged at his hand minutely, and Stiles got the message, because he stood up and leaned over Derek. Their lips met in a sweet, chaste kiss that made Stiles’ insides melt. He pulled back and rested his forehead against Derek’s, careful from the bandage.

“I missed you so much, you have no idea,” he whispered softly. “I thought I wasn’t going to see you. Wasn’t going to…” Derek’s lips twitched down from the corners. Stiles leaned in and kissed Derek’s lips again.

After a minute he pulled back and sat down. Derek’s eyes never left Stiles’ eyes. Which he held as much as he could. Derek looked too beautiful, and Stiles always felt awkward around beautiful people. “You look ridiculously beautiful, just saying,” blurted Stiles before he could think about it.

Derek let out a throaty laugh and stared at Stiles, his eyes were sparkling and for a second, he didn’t look tired. He didn’t look the guy who was fighting for his life few week ago in Iraq. He was just Derek. Handsome, beautiful, young Derek. Stiles’ cheeks reddened from the intensity of his stare so he looked down and cleared his throat.

“Thank you,” said Derek, looking smug.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “God, that’s all you needed, right? Just a rub on your ego. You’re going to combust someday for how smug you look right now.”

“Why do you think I keep you around?” teased Derek. Stiles only rolled his eyes at him and didn’t reply.

At that moment his phone started to vibrate in his pocket and he reached down to take it out with his free hand. It was his dad.

“Yo, dad.”

 _“Hey, Stiles. Glad of you to call me,”_  his dad said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Stiles winced minutely and said, “Sorry, about that. I kind of forgot.”

_“Forgot? I was worried sick!”_

“I know, dad, I know. I’m sorry, okay?” said Stiles. He heard a grunt from his dad so he took it as a good sign to gush about Derek and how he felt, and how New Yorkers were different from the people of Beacon Hills. He caught Derek’s eyes staring at him, and there was something in his gaze that made Stiles’ toes curl and something on his chest to tighten.

Stiles smiled at him and tightened his hold on his hand. After a moment, Derek’s hand tightened against his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo! he isn't dead *hears cheers and stuff like that* okay okay! calm down :P
> 
> I'm sorry I broke your hearts, made you cry... ok, no not really sorry, but yeah.  
> comments are always appreciated and read and replied, so leave 'em to me because I like 'em!
> 
> PS: since I don't know how to do one of those tag thingies here, I'm just going to paste the tumblr blog-post URL here and yeah, you can check out the playlist I made for this story. I kept listening to these songs, on repeat. yeah, crazy, I know. shut up i'm a hopeless romantic. ANYWAYS! here's the link to it: http://lerdan.tumblr.com/post/101187833182/a-playlist-for-heart-to-heart-sterek-fanfiction
> 
> PPS: I just re-watched the Notebook and I'm emotionally unstable.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I love this house. Was it always been your parents?”  
> Stiles nodded, “Yeah. They got it when they first got engaged. It’s old and smells, but its home.”

**DEREK POV**

“It’s going to be totally awesome, right? Like he is cool, you’re cool, you guys will click. End of story. Do you even like steak? I hope you do. I mean, dad makes the best damned steak in the State if I do say so myself. Although,  _he_  doesn’t eat it, because I’m trying to make him live his life longer, you know? I bet he sometimes sneaks in some meat here and there, but then  _I_  don’t know about it. So it’s okay as long as I don’t know… Okay, no. It isn’t okay, but it’s not like I can do anything about it. It’s not like I have an evidence under my hand so I can, you know, smack it down on the table and be all like ‘gotcha!’, right? He is a cool dad. One of the coolest in the whole universe. Like he is cooler thanice, bro, you know what I’m saying? And I’m pretty sure he’ll like you back. He will. He likes dudes in uniforms… and that came out  _so_  wrong. What I meant to say is-“

“I know what you wanted to say, Stiles,” said Derek, as he drove them both towards Stiles’ dad’s house. “Now, kindly stop hyperventilating, please and thank you.”

“Me?! I’m not hyperventilating! You’re the one who is hyperventilating. I’m totally cool. I’m like zen. I’ve never been this zen of my life. I’m the king of zen,” Stiles heaved out a sigh. “I need to calm down.” 

“Hey,” said Derek and reached out to squeeze Stiles’ hand. “We’re going to be great. We’ll get along just fine, okay?”

Stiles stared at their joined hands and slowly nodded. “Yeah. Okay. I know it, like, deep down. But still…” Derek looked at Stiles. He chewed on his lower lip and a worry line was formed on his forehead. Derek squeezed his hand. Stiles looked at him, big wide-eyes pulling Derek in. If they weren’t on the road, Derek would’ve kissed Stiles, as long as it took, to make him look less-worried then he did right now.

Derek took a steadying breath and winced. The action made the shot wounds on his abdomen sting a bit. He’d been out of the hospital for about a week now. He was stable now, more than so. Doctor Nancy gave him strict instructions on how to clean his wounds and change the bandage regularly. If Stiles wasn’t there with him for almost half of the day, he wouldn’t even do it himself. Not because it was tiresome, but because he just wouldn’t want to do it. Call it a self-punishment.

Stiles didn’t know what he went through these days. Whatever was going on in his head; he never asked, never pried. He was just there, because Stiles was home.

Derek had to remind himself of this fact more than he was willing to admit. He would get lost in his own thoughts more times then he’d like, but Stiles was always cautious and gentle. Luring him back to reality with his comforting voice and words. 

“Do you want to tell me why are you so nervous about this dinner?” asked Derek. He needed to focus on the task at hand. He’d think about some other stuff later.

Stiles sighed. He turned his head and stared out of the window. It was raining faintly, the windows were a bit foggy, but not too much that they couldn’t see the outside. It was a beautiful weather. The gray colors from the outside made Stiles look paler somehow and Derek found him eternally beautiful; with the leather jacket and hair swept up in twirls and disarray. Derek’s hand twitched with the intense need to run it through his hair. Derek could make out Stiles’ moles that were scattered over his face. He wanted to trace them all with his tongue. Memorize them…

He blinked several times as Stiles spoke, “Because you’re the first person I’m taking home to meet my dad.”

Derek frowned at that. He knew that Stiles was never really intimate with anyone, but he thought he had a girlfriend. “You’ve never had a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend?”

Stiles shook his head. “Nope. You see, my life has always been one-sided kind of a life. Like, if I found someone interesting, then that was all there was to it. Like, I’d be the only one who was interested in the whole ‘liking’ thing, ya know?” Stiles shrugged. “I’m used to being rejected. You have no idea how many times I’ve made a foul out of myself for even  _trying_ to attempt a conversation with someone attractive.”

“What about Lydia?” asked Derek.

“What about her? Wait, who told you about that?” asked Stiles, frowning at Derek.

Derek spared him a glance and waited for Stiles to stop frowning and actually start talking. Derek rolled his eyes when he figured that Stiles wasn’t going to make a sound. “Lydia told me the first time I called you. While we waited for you to come to Jackson’s.”

“So what, you gossiped about me with Lydia and had a laugh about my pathetic life?”

Abruptly, Derek pulled over. He turned in his sit and grabbed Stiles by his shirt and brought him close to his face. He ignored the indignant cry of ‘hey!’ from Stiles and slapped a hand over his mouth. “Listen to me  _very_  closely, Stiles, because I’m going to say this once. And  _only_  once, do you hear me?” Stiles swallowed, eyes wide as he nodded. “Good. Now listen here you adorable idiot. I’m not one of those people who spill out their emotions all over the place because they’re feeling tingly at the tips of their fingers. But I’m going to tell you this; I like  _you._  Okay? I don’t care that you’ve never had a boyfriend or a girlfriend before. I don’t care that you’ve never had sex with anyone before. This whole thing makes it more interesting for me, because I  _know_  that no one, ever, touched you and kissed you and did stuff with you before  _me._  I like you. I want to know you. I want every inch of you. And me asking about you from Lydia, or Jackson, or even Scott, doesn’t mean that I’ve been gossiping about you behind your back, because believe me when I say, if I have something to tell a person then I do so. I don’t go around and gossip about the people that I’m really, really interested in. So you can keep up all the hostility of being affronted from the fact that I actually went around and asked people,  _your friends_ , information about you, or you can simply not care about this at all and just… be with me. And let me drive us to your dad’s house. Because believe me when I say, I want this, I want us, to work out in the end. Okay? And me going to meet your dad, is a huge deal for the both of us. Are we clear or do you want me to go over every detail that I like about you? Because I can.” 

Stiles was staring at him with impossibly huge eyes. His cheeks were flushed and he was breathing heavily. Derek waited for him to do something but he was still staring at him with the same expression on his face. Derek slowly let his hand fall from Stiles’ mouth, but he didn’t go further. He rested his hand over Stiles’ neck and leaned in a bit and gave Stiles a deep kiss; which was full of promises and more.

Stiles returned the kiss enthusiastically. But Derek, rather reluctantly, broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Stiles’. “Do you believe me now?” he asked, his voice a mere whisper.

Stiles nodded and murmured, “Maybe someday you can tell me all the things that you like about me?”

Derek huffed out a small laugh and nodded. He pulled back, planted a kiss on Stiles’ forehead and sat straighter on his seat. He heard Stiles make a pleasant humming sound as he straightened in his seat as well. Derek started the car and they drove off. They still had a few minutes road in front of them to get to Stiles’ dad’s house.

The ride there was somewhat pleasant now, since Stiles wasn’t fidgeting or gnawing on his lower lip. Instead, he had this small content smile on his lips and was looking out of the car window. Derek found himself mirroring Stiles’ smile and he accelerated down the road, feeling something loosen in his chest.

* * *

 

The Stilinski house was a lovely one. It was two-story high and it looked homey. Derek sat in the living room, on a worn out couch that has seen better days. He looked around the living room as Stiles and the sheriff twinkled around the kitchen. The walls were filled with various family pictures. One picture caught Derek’s attention and he stood up. Walking towards the picture a small smile flickered over Derek’s face as he looked at it.

Stiles was probably seven or eight in it. He was smiling brightly at the camera, with his two front teeth missing. He was holding a big fish from its tail. There was a woman kneeling beside him. She had brown hair, a brilliant smile and soft features. She looked exactly like the adult Stiles that Derek knew today.

“That’s my mum,” said Stiles appearing beside him and handing him a cup of coffee. “She just got her first round of chemo in that picture. Dad thought it was a good idea to go fishing, since she always loved fishing.”

“Did you caught that?” asked Derek as he pointed at the fish.

Stiles nodded, a soft smile on his lips. He looked sad. Derek couldn’t look away. “Yeah. It was my first fish. She helped me. Taught me how to do it. We had that for dinner. I can’t forget her face when I caught it. She looked happy…” Stiles drifted off and Derek felt a pull in his heart for the guy. He placed his mug of coffee on the shelf and then wrapped his arms around Stiles.

Stiles tensed for a second and then relaxed into his arms and hugged him back. Derek placed a soft kiss on top of his head. Derek didn’t really know what he should say in here. What words would soothe Stiles’ memories and sadness. So he only hugged him close. Stiles kissed his shoulder and Derek smiled at the action.

Someone cleared their throat and Derek quickly took a step back from Stiles. He clasped his hands on his back as Mr. Stilinski stared at them, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “Uhm, dinner’s ready, if you boys are hungry.”

“Thanks, dad,” said Stiles. He turned and lifted his eyebrows in question. Derek nodded and followed Stiles as he led the way to the kitchen.

The dinner was indeed stake and it was delicious. If Derek hadn’t learned to eat as little as he could during his serving time, he would’ve asked for another refill. He barely managed to eat the whole plate. The conversation around the table was light.

Mr. Stilinski, John, as he insisted on Derek to call him, was a pleasant man to talk to about anything. He was awkward and he would blush whenever Stiles would ask him to tell them stories from the station. But it was clear that he and Stiles shared a deep bond that Derek hadn’t had the time to enjoy with his own parents. They had this easy demeanor to them that Derek longed for.

The thing about them was that they wouldn’t leave out Derek from their conversation. He would always have a say in a subject. The two of them made so much noise that Derek couldn’t help but smile at them. If he had to choose the perfect family for himself, it was these two men together.

“When I first met Claudia, I just got out of my first day of work. I was young and scared. The guy that was assigned as my partner was a mean son of a bitch, but I learneda thing or two from him,” said John as he took a sip from his whiskey. The argument over that was won when John said that it was a weekend and he could get a drink because he didn’t have to work till Monday. Stiles disapproved, but then he shrugged and muttered something under his breath.

“Where did you meet?” asked Derek, leaning on his hand.

There was a soft smile on John’s face. “I wasn’t looking where I was going when I bumped onto her.” Stiles and Derek looked at each other and shared a smile. “She had multiple files in her arms. They all flew all around us. But we didn’t really notice. Well,  _I_  sure as hell hadn’t noticed it. She was beautiful and different.”

“Different and beautiful.” murmured Derek, still staring at Stiles. Stiles held his gaze steadily, although there was a faint blush on his cheeks. “Aren’t they always?”

John was silent for a moment and then he said, “I guess they are. She was special…”

“I’m sure I would’ve loved her,” said Derek as his eyes slid off from Stiles’ face and looked at John. Who, in return, gave him a nod and a smile.

“I’m sure she would. She does. She always saw the good in people.”

Derek nodded, not knowing what to say.

After that Stiles broke the silence that stretched between them by offering a pie. By the time they finished eating the pie, Derek thought that he was officially unable to move his butt from the chair.

Stiles stood up and started to clean up the table, and Derek followed suit, but John shooed them out of the kitchen and told them to “Put on some good movie. And Derek, make sure that Stiles won’t persuade you in letting him put on  _Star Wars_. Again. A man my age can watch that movie only handfuls of times.”

“You’re such a liar, dad. You love the movies!” Stiles called out to him from the living room. He grinned up at Derek as he got the DVDs out of the shelf. “Now, what should we watch?”

In the end they all decided that a lighthearted, comedy movie was in order. Derek sat on the couch, and Stiles sat too close to him, while John sat on an armchair to his left. Derek kept his hands in his lap as they watched the movie and laughed at the funny scenes. Throughout the movie Derek was leaning comfortably back against the couch, when Stiles held his hand.

Derek stared down at their joined hands and then looked at Stiles, finding him already staring at him. _“okay?”_  he mouthed at him and Derek nodded minutely. He glanced at John and back at Stiles, silently asking if hand holding was okay now, and Stiles shrugged. Derek pursed his lips and shook his head. He continued watching the movie and ignored the shaking that was provided by Stiles and his silent laughter.

After the movie ended John stretched and bid them a good night. Derek stood up and shook his hand. John said that he should come over more often. Derek agreed to it.

Once they were alone in the dark living room, Stiles kicked his shoes off and got his legs up and under his bum. He snuggled closer to Derek’s side and left a kiss on his shoulder. Derek squeezed Stiles’ hand back. They sat there for a while, just watching TV and basking in the calmness of the house.

“I love this house. Was it always been your parents?”

Stiles nodded, “Yeah. They got it when they first got engaged. It’s old and smells, but its home.”

 _You’re home,_  Derek wanted to say, but he didn’t. Instead he settled more comfortably on the couch.

After some time, when it was getting darker outside and it was already past midnight, Derek stretched his legs and Stiles sat up. “I think I should head out.”

“We can stay?” asked Stiles staring at Derek with open eyes.

Derek leaned in and kissed his forehead. “I don’t want to disturb your dad, since he didn’t say that I can stay.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and stood up. “Come on big guy, time to head to bed.”

“Are you sure, Stiles?” Derek couldn’t help but ask, even though he was shutting the TV off and following Stiles up the stairs.

“Of course I am sure. If I wasn’t I wouldn’t tell you so. And besides, don’t you want to see what my bedroom looks like? I hadn’t changed it since… well, ever. I never changed anything in there. I just added a lot of stuff there.” When they reached Stiles’ bedroom, Stiles paused in front of it and turned around. He stared seriously up at Derek and said, “If you’ll laugh at anything that you’ll see in my bedroom I will kick your butt to the future and back, understood?”

Derek raised an eyebrow at Stiles’ threat because, honestly, they both knew that Stiles wouldn’t have it in him to even slap Derek without breaking his hand. But he saw how serious Stiles looked so he nodded at him. Stiles took a deep steadying breathe and opened the door. They walked inside. As Derek looked around he raised his eyebrows and let out a small surprised laugh at what he saw.

Stiles’ room was literally covered with anything that connected to Sci-Fi and fantasy, be it movies or books. His walls had various posters of  _Star Wars, Harry Potter, Doctor Who, Supernatural_  and many more covering every inch of the surface. Derek noted that he even had a shelf specially made for franchise.

“Wow,” was all he could say. “How long did it take you to get to this level?”

“Few years. I have this thing when… when I get obsessed with something I can’t let it go. It’s not in my nature, you know? So I get to find anything related to it, be it a trash-bag or a toy. I need to have it,” said Stiles shrugging. He bent down to get his socks off from his feet.

“My oldest sister was obsessed with shoes,” Derek said as casually as he could. But of course it didn’t go as smoothly as he thought it would, because Stiles chose that moment to stumble on his footing and flail. He grabbed his desk chair to steady him up.

“You… what… your sister… what kind of shoes?” he stumbled over his words.

Derek shrugged and sat down on the bed, leaning back on his hands. “Any kind, I guess. She’d buy up to five pair of shoes every month.”

“Wow, really? Lydia would’ve loved her.”

Derek snorted at that. “You have no idea how much terrifying they’d be if the two of them ever met.”

“That’s the one that called you sap, right?” asked Stiles. Derek nodded and smiled at him. “Did you, I mean… any other siblings?” asked Stiles as he fumbled with his pajamas. It was a worn out t-shirt and an equally worn out pants.

“I had a little sister, Cora. She was like a mix between Jackson and Lydia.”

Stiles winced at that, “Ouch. That must’ve been terrifying.”

“It was.”

“And the one that liked shoes?”

Stiles got his t-shirt over his head and walked to where Derek was sitting. He leaned in and kissed his forehead. Derek’s eyes fluttered close at the feather light kisses that Stiles was leaving on his face. “You don’t need this,” mumbled Stiles as he pulled Derek’s shirt off his head. Derek helped him to get it off.

Soon after Derek’s pants followed suit and Stiles pulled him up the bed and under the cover. The only thing that Stiles let Derek wear was his undershirt and underwear. They fumbled this and that way, never been in bed before together. So they ended up spooning. Stiles curled in on himself and Derek wrapped himself around Stiles.

Stiles’ pale neck was close to his lips. He gave in to the urge to kiss Stiles’ neck. So he did. The action received him a throaty groan and a shudder from Stiles. “Derek…” he whispered but he turned his head up and gave Derek more skin to explore.

Soon after that Stiles was panting and his hips were thrusting in slow motions. Before they could go any further, Derek felt tired. His hand sneaked in under Stiles’ shirt and pulled him closer to his chest. Stiles’ moves stuttered a bit and Derek smiled against Stiles’ neck. He kissed Stiles’ cheek and then fell back on the bed, arms firmly wrapped around Stiles’ abdomen. Stiles felt warm. His smell was overpowering his senses, but he fought the urge to turn Stiles on his back and fuck him senseless. They weren’t at Derek’s, so he didn’t want to risk the chance of getting at the end of John’s angry rant. Since the man was the sheriff and Derek was pretty sure he had a fully loaded gun close by, if not on him.

Stiles turned his head around and gave Derek a soft kiss, before turning and falling promptly into sleep. Derek stayed up a bit more. He was afraid that he’d have nightmares again, but… He looked down at Stiles and watched as Stiles’ eyelids fluttered as he dreamed. Maybe he wouldn’t have nightmares now since he was  _home?_

He was willing to give it a try so he settled down more comfortably, pulled Stiles closer to him and after a few moments of silent, calm breathing, sleep lulled him in into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo, how do you like it so far? leave me some comments ^_^ I love getting them :')


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll always care about you,” said Stiles.  
> “I know you will,” said Derek. “But I’m not sure if… if I can allow you to do that.”  
> “Why not?”  
> “Because I’m afraid,” Derek’s voice was choked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bow chica wow-wow~

Derek changed after the dinner at Stiles’ dad’s house. At first, Stiles didn’t see the changes, filing them as something that would come from his hospitalization. He understood that Derek would have the signs of someone having post-traumatic stress disorder, Doctor Nancy told him about that. But he didn’t think of it to be so… intense.

Stiles didn’t stay over at Derek’s. He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to stay with Derek right now. It wasn’t that Stiles didn’t feel safe being around Derek. It was more of the fact that he didn’t know what to do with Derek when he closed in on himself, and shut Stiles out. Stiles would try to talk to him, or just talk about things, but there wouldn’t be any response from Derek. And when Stiles would tell him that he had to go home, Derek would silently stand up and walk him to the door. 

Derek would kiss Stiles’ forehead, cupping his cheeks, and there wouldn’t be any words exchanged.

That continued for weeks.

Stiles had a Lacrosse game to play that week. He excitedly told Derek that there was a game and he should come. Derek looked at him for a moment and then wished him good luck and went back to his bed. Stiles was so upset by his behavior that he didn’t even call or visited him before the game.

They won the game.

Stiles went back to Derek’s after the game. Derek looked tired and his eyes were unfocused. Stiles heaved a sigh at the sight but he slipped on a small smile on his face.

“Hey, Derek,” said Stiles as he walked in the studio. He kissed Derek’s shoulder as he passed and walked to the kitchen area. Derek didn’t react. He only closed the door after Stiles and walked to the high stool of the kitchen. He sat down on it and folded his arms on top of the table. Stiles licked his lips and said, “We won the game. It was awesome. Everyone was there, and they asked where you were and I… I didn’t know what to tell them so… yeah. Anyways, it was a good game. I just wish you were there.”

“I was.”

It was probably the first time that Derek spoke to him for weeks. Stiles froze for a second. He stared at Derek, who was acting as if nothing was out of ordinary.

“Uhm… you were there?” asked Stiles.

Derek nodded.

Stiles would’ve fist pumped the air, but he contained his excitement, because Derek was  _talking_. “I didn’t see you there.”

“You weren’t supposed to. Hiding.”

“You were hiding? Why? You know that I would’ve loved to known that you were there. And was watching me, the game, you know?”

“Jackson knew.”

“Really now?” for some reason that made Stiles angry. How come Jackson knew and he didn’t? There was this sort of bad feeling in his gut that Stiles didn’t like at all. He chose to ignore it and asked instead, “Did you like the game?”

“You looked great on the field,” said Derek. Maybe it was the sincerity in his voice, but Stiles' suddenly found himself walking across the kitchen and hugging Derek. He buried his face at the crook of Derek’s neck and took a deep breathe. He had missed how Derek smelled. It was a mix of things that he couldn’t really put into words.

Derek wrapped his arms loosely over his waist. Stiles breathed out in relief at the gesture. At least he had started responding. It was unsettling to have Derek be so unresponsive. He kissed Derek’s neck softly and pulled back. He rubbed Derek’s stubble, gave him a small smile and walked to the coffee maker. As he turned the machine on, Derek stood up and walked to the cabinet by the refrigerator and pulled out a bag.

“What’s that?” asked Stiles. He walked to where Derek was standing and peered inside the bag.

“It’s my meds for the…” he pointed to his chest. Stiles’ eyes slid up from the bag and looked at Derek’s chest. “I have to change the bandage once in a while.”

“Do you want me to help out?” asked Stiles. He looked up at Derek and found him staring back at him. After a moment of clear hesitation, Derek nodded and Stiles gave him a small smile.

Coffee maker forgotten, they made their way to Derek’s bedroom area. It was raining outside. His whole studio looked grayer. Derek sat at the edge of the bed and Stiles kneltin front of him. Derek slowly took off his shirt and Stiles tried not to ogle at him.

This was probably the first time he had ever seen Derek without a shirt. The sight was mouthwatering to say the least. If not for the bandages, Derek had an almost flawless body. Stiles’ mouth watered at the sight. But it wasn’t the right time to think of it, because Derek was hurt and Stiles was going to help him clean and bandage the wounds.

Derek peeled off the bandages from his chest. Stiles was watching any signs of distress on his face, but Derek was showing none. Once he got them all off, he breathed out through his nose and reached into the bag and pulled out various equipment’s for the wounds.

“Does it hurt?” asked Stiles softly. He wanted to reach out and touch them, and kiss them all, but he knew better and curled his hand into a fist.

“It used to hurt, but now it doesn’t.”

“Here, let me do it for you,” Stiles scooted closer to Derek’s body and knelt in between his legs. He took the bandage and the meds from Derek’s hands. He started clearing off Derek’s wounds first. “I’m not going to ask you what happened to you the last few weeks,” said Stiles softly, looking up at Derek’s face briefly. Making sure he was listening to him. He was. Derek was staring right back at Stiles. He continued, “Because it is not my place to ask. But you know that I’m always here for you. If you need someone to listen to you, know that I’m the right guy for it. If you want to yell at someone, I’m here for you. Even if you want to beat the shit out of someone, I’m here… okay, no. I won’t be here because seriously, I’d rather have you scream in my face and call me names, then have you beating me. Because that will hurt and I don’t want to look like a walking punching bag.” That earned him a small, soft snort from Derek. Stiles’ lips twitched. “So, yeah. I’m here for you, Derek.”

Stiles was done with cleaning the wounds and bandaging them. He put everything back into the bag and got ready to stand up, only Derek held his hand down and Stiles had to stay on his knees.

Derek was frowning and he was looking down. Stiles saw him swallowing, and then he asked. “Why are you so nice to me? I’ve… I’ve been nothing but mean to you. Why are you so nice to me?”

Stiles frowned. “I’m not being nice to you. I’m just being myself.”

“I don’t need anyone’s pity,” said Derek. His voice was rough and edgy.

“I’m not pitying you, Derek. Trying to help someone doesn’t mean that I pity that someone,” said Stiles quickly. Derek’s frown deepened.

“It’s been so long…” Derek said, his voice a mere whisper.

Stiles scooted closer. So close he could feel Derek’s staggering breathing over his face. Somehow, having Derek sharing something with him was making Stiles feeling special. “What?”

Derek leaned forward and rested his forehead against Stiles’. “It’s been so long since someone actually cared about me.”

“I’ll always care about you,” said Stiles.

“I know you will,” said Derek. “But I’m not sure if… if I can allow you to do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m afraid,” Derek’s voice was choked. Stiles’ throat tightened when he heard the small hitch in his breathe. “I’m afraid that you’ll run. You don’t know who I’ve become, what I did… what I did on that battlefield. Stiles, I’ve killed people.”

Stiles swallowed, hard. He licked his lips and said, “I know you did, Derek. I know.”

“Why do you even want to stay with someone who is so broken?” he whispered brokenly and Stiles felt his throat tighten even more. He didn’t know what to say to Derek so he kissed the tip of his nose and then his forehead. Stiles then hugged Derek close to him as Derek made an unmistakable stifled.

Stiles held him close as Derek sniffled and coughed into his neck. He didn’t care that he’d get beard burns or snot all over himself. He didn’t care. Because Derek needed him right now.

“I don’t really know what’s happening inside your head, but I’m here for you Der. You can talk to me. Tell me what to do. Tell me how to help you. Let me in. I’m here for you.”

And then Derek was kissing him. Stiles let out a surprised, choked out sound at the back of his throat, but he responded quickly. He pushed himself closer to Derek’s body and tightened his hold around Derek.

Derek moaned and pulled Stiles closer still. His hands seemed to be everywhere around Stiles’ body. Lips never leaving each other, Derek started to pull at Stiles’ clothes. Stiles got rid of his plaid shirt, flinging it as far away from them as it was possible.

Derek grabbed Stiles by the back of his ass and hauled him up and into his lap. Stiles straddled his hips and cupped Derek’s face. He slowed down the kiss a bit after that. If they were going to do this, then Stiles wanted to enjoy it. Being emotionally desperate for his first time wasn’t something Stiles ever dreamed for. But he wasn’t going to stop this. Derek needed him.

So he pulled back, and Derek chased after his lips. Stiles gave him a chaste kiss, which was a promise that he wasn’t going anywhere. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. Derek’s hands started roaming all over his body. He kissed the hollow of Stiles’ neck, slowly making his way down his chest. He sucked on Stiles’ nipple slowly, so slowly that Stiles let out a groan of arousal and arched his back into Derek’s mouth.

Derek made his way back to Stiles’ mouth by kissing and biting on Stiles’ flesh. Stiles returned his kissing with passion. He felt Derek grab at his ass and pull him down, while he pushed up. Stiles could feel Derek’s hardening erection and he shivered at the contact. He bit down on Derek’s lower lip and let out a guttural moan from the back of his neck.

“Stiles, you’re-“ Derek couldn’t continue his train of thought, it seemed, because at that moment Stiles dropped his whole weight down on Derek’s lap and grind his hips. Derek’s mouth fell open and he let out a heavy gasp at the feeling. Stiles threw his head back, gripping Derek’s neck tightly with his hands, he moved his hips at the fast pace.

The friction of his jeans on his dick was a blessed relief, but only for a few seconds. Derek’s hands moved passed his ass and down in between his legs and ass cheeks, were he let his fingers push at his jeans. The feeling wasn’t enough to push Stiles over the edge, and he felt frustrated. He needed to be closer to Derek’s body. So with a firm kiss on Derek’s lips, he pulled away and stood in front of Derek.

Derek looked up at him with half-lidded, lustful eyes. Stiles shivered from the intensity of it. He raised his hands and unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down and off of him. His boxers followed shortly after that. He watched as Derek rubbed a hand over his dick for a moment. He noticed how hard Derek was. At that moment, Stiles wanted nothing more than to have Derek inside of him.

“I think there’s something in my way,” said Stiles. His voice was casual, but inside he was a jittery mess. He was shaking from head to toe. There was a nervous anticipation in his gut.

“Maybe you should take care of it,” Derek said. His voice was deep. Deeper than his normal tone of voice. Stiles shivered at that. He bit down on his lower lip and leaned in to get the buttons of Derek’s jeans. Derek, on his part, caressed Stiles’ sides and let his hand deep lower and lower down his body. Stiles almost lost his balance from feeling Derek’s hand over his dick.

He leaned in more and kissed Derek’s lips as hard and fast as he could. He tugged at Derek’s jeans and Derek pulled back, sloppily, from the kiss. He got off the bed and waited for Stiles to tug his jeans and underwear down in one go.

Stiles dropped down to his knees and regarded Derek’s erect dick for a moment. It was thicker and longer than his. He licked his lips, and without warning Derek, he wrapped his around the head and sucked at it.

“Holy shi-Stiles-what the- _oh my God,”_  Derek couldn't form coherent words. Stiles took that as a sign he was doing it right. He felt powerful at this moment. It was his first time as well. He knew that he didn’t have gag reflexes so he just swallowed it whole. Derek grabbed at the back of Stiles’ head, and he was thankful that Derek didn’t really pull him in closer. As much as Stiles didn’t have a gag reflex he was still cautious about it.

Derek rubbed the back of his neck, as Stiles looked up at him. Derek’s pupils were dilated, he was breathing heavily, and his chest was covered in a fine sheet of sweat. Derek bit down on his lower lip and tugged at Stiles’ hair. “Stiles, if you continue that, I’m gonna cum in a second.”

Stiles thought it wasn’t a terrible idea, but since he wanted to make it last longer, he nodded around Derek’s dick. He swallowed Derek more into his mouth, and while sucking on his length, he pulled back from Derek.

Derek let out a cry as Stiles pulled back. He grabbed Stiles by his elbow and got him on the bed. Derek followed behind in a second and kissed at every inch of skin his mouth could get. He kissed Stiles’ lips, hard, and pulled back. “What the hell was that?”

“I think people call it “giving head” or blow jobs, but I don’t know, since I didn’t finish the task at hand,” said Stiles, punctuating his last words by pulling at Derek’s dick with his hand. Derek rested his head on Stiles’ chest with a groan at the feeling. He kissed Stiles’ chest slowly and made his back up to Stiles’ lips. He gave a soft kiss to Stiles.

“You can’t stop being sarcastic for a second, can you?” Derek said, letting out a huff of laughter. Instead of answering Stiles gave him a grin. He open his legs wider, wrapped them around Derek’s waist and pulled him closer to his body. They both let out a groan of pleasure at the contact. They kissed like that for a few more seconds. The kisses were soft and passionate. Derek was pulling Stiles’ hips closer and closer to his own, while Stiles was raking his blunt nails on Derek’s back.

Stiles threw his head back when Derek rolled his hips down on Stiles, their dicks slippery with their pre-cum. “Fuck, Derek. Can you just…?” he didn’t know how to tell Derek what he wanted. Instead, he gave Derek a short kiss and leaned back on the bed and opened the drawer of the nightstand.

Thanking his lucky stars and his gut feeling, he pulled out the lube and condoms from there. He silently gave them to Derek and stared at him in the eye. “You. In me. Preferably now.”

Derek looked back at him and then sat back on his heels, in between Stiles’ openly wide legs. “Are you sure?” he asked. His voice got that hitch to it for a second, and his fingertips were running over Stiles’ erect dick.

“If-If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t want it right now, would I?” he asked. His voice was breathless. Feeling Derek’s hand over his dick was like heaven on earth.

“No, you wouldn’t,” said Derek. He licked his lips as he looked down at Stiles body. He opened the lube and squirted some of it on his fingers. He then pushed at Stiles’ legs and Stiles got the message. He got his legs up and close to his chest, affectionately opening himself up for Derek.

Derek grazed the lube over Stiles’ whole and Stiles jerked a bit. “Cold.”

“It’ll heat up,” said Derek, eyes concentrating on Stiles’ face for any signs of distress.

True to Derek’s word, the lube got warmer as Derek started to probe himself open. Stiles let out a whimper and closed his eyes as Derek’s fingers went into him. “Relax,” he heard Derek tell him softly. And Stiles tried. It was harder to relax this way, when Derek was probing him open insistently, but he willed his body to go lax.

The pleasure intensified more as Derek’s long fingers heat the sweet spot in his body, over and over again. By the time Derek was satisfied with his handy work, Stiles was a panting mess, covered in sweat and his own pre-cum. Derek ripped the condom open and slid it over himself. He lathered up his dick with lube and got closer to Stiles’ body.

Derek gripped his dick firmly in his hand and inched closer to Stiles’ whole. Stiles swallowed hard and stared up at Derek’s face. Derek looked serious, despite the fact that his chest was blushing with arousal, and his forehead was covered in sweat, and his hair looked like it had seen better days.

“Ready?” Derek said. His voice sounded like it was coming from another person’s body; it was unrecognizable.

A pleasant shiver ran down Stiles’ body as he nodded and Derek pushed himself in. At first there was nothing but the dull pain of getting stretched by something bigger then Derek’s fingers. He tightened his hold over his legs as Derek pushed in more. He let out a shaky groan at the feeling and gritted his teeth.

“Relax, Stiles,” said Derek once again.

“I am relaxed,” gritted out Stiles and groaned as Derek pushed in more.

When he got all the way through, Derek places his hands over by Stiles’ head and leaned in closer. “Oh _fuck,_ ” he let out a groan and slowly moved his hips. Stiles’ eyes rolled back in his head and he couldn’t help the streaming of curses that stumbled out of his lips.

Derek took that as his cue to move his hips and Stiles cried out with pleasure. He felt Derek’s lips and teeth, mouthing over his jawline. He felt Derek nibble on his ear as his hips moved faster and faster into him. He felt Derek kissing his open mouth, and he tried to return his kissing, but he was so far out of it that he couldn’t even concentrate enough to move his lips more. The only thing that he could do right now was groan and moan as Derek drew himself in and in and in.

Stiles’ hands were restless. At first his run his hands over Derek’s chest, but then he remembered that Derek had bandages over his chest, so he let his hands wander of Derek’s back. He pulled him closer and tried to leave open mouthed kisses on Derek’s neck and shoulder.

Derek rolled his hips in a certain way which caused him to let out a small whimper of pleasure and bit down, hard, on Derek’s shoulder. He got himself a hard thrust of hips, which jostled him so bad that he moved up the bed. And that was what they both needed.

Stiles started to bite and leave marks on Derek’s body, as Derek drove faster and harder into him. Stiles felt himself being moved up on the bed by the force of it and he started to bite harder on Derek’s flesh. He felt Derek’s one hand clasp over his hip in a bruising strength and moved his hips even faster.

“Fuck, Stiles, you feel so good. So good,” breathed Derek into his ear. Stiles shuddered and nipped at Derek’s. Derek let out a low groan and dropped his head beside Stiles’ and on top of the pillow.

“Do me, Der. Fuck me, harder,” hissed Stiles into Derek’s ear. And to Stiles’ great surprise, Derek managed to move his hips as harder and faster as he could. Stiles knew that he was going to get lovely bruises all over his body from this. And that he was going to walk funny for a few days, but he didn’t care. Not one bit.

“Close,” he heard Derek whisper and Stiles made a move to grab his dick so they could come together, but Derek slapped his hand away and gave Stiles such a hard thrust that Stiles cried out in pleasurable pain. “Don’t.” Derek growled in his ear and Stiles nodded dumbly.

Derek kissed his cheek. The movement was so soft that Stiles’ heart melted at the gesture. Derek then moved his hips faster, his hand clasping Stiles’ hip in a vice like grip. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t… Derek! I can’t hold it back. PLEASE!” Stiles yelled and his hands moved to grab Derek’s ass and pull him as close as he could. His own release was at its peak, he just needed to touch his dick one time, and he would cum like a fountain.

“Touch your dick and I’ll stop,” Derek growled and bit on Stiles’ ear. Hard.

Stiles groaned at that and turned his face to capture Derek’s lips into a bruising kiss. Derek’s movement stuttered for a second and then he was moaning into Stiles’ mouth as he came inside him. Derek rode out his orgasm in slow, lazy thrusts of his hips. Stiles kissed the corner of Derek’s mouth.

Derek lifted himself up a bit from Stiles. He grabbed the base of his condom and pulled out of Stiles. Stiles winced a bit at the feeling but then he scrambled up to get a hold of something because Derek had his mouth around Stiles’ dick and he was sucking at it as if his life was depending on it.

“Holy fucking shit, DEREK!” he screamed as his orgasm cut through him in one blinding stroke. He fell down on the bed, his legs coming down on the bed. He felt satiated and calm. He had never had this kind of orgasm in his whole life. Never. So the feeling left him feel boneless to the core.

He felt Derek move around on the bed a bit, but he couldn’t keep his eyes open. Derek manhandled him on the bed a bit and Stiles then felt himself being wrapped up in Derek’s warm arms and blankets. His back was to Derek’s front, and he felt Derek’s arms being wrapped around his middle. Derek kissed the back of Stiles’ ear and Stiles squeezed the back of Derek’s arm.

“Thank you,” Derek whispered into his ear.

Stiles was already half-way asleep, when he heard him say those words, “Hmm? For what?” Stiles mumbled.

“For everything,” Derek whispered again.

Stiles smiled and patted at Derek’s arm lazily. “I should be thanking you. For making this memorable for me. I’ve never felt this exhausted in my whole life. So, thank you.”

He felt the vibration of Derek’s laughter on his back and felt Derek’s lips at the back of his neck, before sleep took over his consciousness.

* * *

Much later that night, Stiles woke up to the sniffling sounds of Derek’s cry. His back was to Stiles and he was shivering from head to toe. He was drenched in sweat and as Stiles rolled over and looked at Derek’s face, he was still fast asleep. His face was covered with tear tracks and he could see there were still tears running down his face. Stiles knew that Derek would probably have nightmares from the war, it was expected from him.

He didn’t know what to do with that, so the only thing he could do right now, was wrap himself up around Derek and try to go back to sleep. When they’d wake up in the morning, Stiles would have to ask Derek about them, so he’d know how to deal with them. Stiles kissed Derek’s neck and tightened his hold on Derek’s body. Derek shivered and pressed closer to Stiles.

Stiles kissed Derek’s neck once more, and soon, he fell asleep once more, but not before he heard Derek’s sobbing grow louder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst and sexy times? that's how I role! :3
> 
> PS: how was Halloween? What did you went as? any TW characters??


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Stiles, this is Andy, my comrade. Andy, this is Stiles. My-“  
> “Boyfriend. Yeah, I know,” Andy converted his smile at Stiles. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Stiles stared at himself in the full length mirror. He didn’t recognize himself for a second. The black suit Lydia helped him pick outfelt like a second skin to him. It was skinny and hugged just the right amount of flesh. He straightened his jacket one more time, tugged at his tie a bit self-consciously. He run his hand through his hair one more time before he sighed. He swallowed hard and turned around to check his back; yup. Still good.

“You look beautiful,” Derek said coming out from the bathroom. Stiles whirled around and his jaw dropped. Stiles had seen Derek in a suit one time, a year or so ago in the library. He didn’t have the time to appreciate how well he looked in them at the time. But now… Now he was openly ogling Derek. Because Derek + black tight suit = Happy Stiles.

“Jesus…” mumbled Stiles. He could feel himself twitch at the sight of Derek like that. He looked down and then back up at Derek, who had his eyebrow raised. Stiles blushed at the way Derek was staring at him. So, Stiles frowned and walked to where Derek was standing, he just had time to say “Don’t judge me” before he crashed their lips together for a passionate kiss. Derek was there, following the lead of Stiles’ lips. He had his arms wrapped around Stiles’ body and he was pulling him closer and closer. Not close enough for Stiles’ liking. Stiles mewled at the back of his throat as Derek pulled back and nipped at his lower lip.

“We are going to be late if we don’tgo now,” Derek said, but he didn’t pull back fully. Instead, he closed the small gap between them and kissed Stiles senseless. Stiles let him lead the kiss this time, because he loved it when Derek kissed him like that. Like he meant the world to him. Like he was the most precious thing in Derek’s life. Like he loved him…

Derek pulled back and stared at Stiles for a moment. Stiles stared right back. Despite the fact that he was blushing like crazy. And he was hard. “FYI, your look isn’t helping my downtown situation.”

At that Derek chuckled and took a step back. He looked down and saw Stiles’ pants tenting. “Oopsy?”

Stiles glared at him and then shook his head. He walked to the kitchen area, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and drunk it all in one go. He rubbed his forehead and then turned around to walk back to where Derek was standing. “Ready to go.” Derek looked down once again and then up at Stiles’ face. “Shut up, I don’t think it’ll go away tonight. So unless you want to get there late and do something about it, then be my guest.”

Derek slowly walked closer to Stiles. He licked lower lip slowly and Stiles thought he was going to cum in his pants just from the sight of it. Derek leaned in closer to Stiles, their lips were almost touching and Stiles closed his eyes, waiting for Derek to do something, anything.

“We are going to be late,” Derek said and then he is pulling back and walking out the door. Stiles stared at him in complete shock. His mouth hanging open in surprise. It took him a few seconds to realize that the front door was open and Derek wasalready waiting for him outside and in his Camaro.

Stiles took another steadying breath. He let out an amused chuckle, because he never fully knew what Derek was, but a teaser wasn’t one of them. He shook his shoulders a bit, walked out the front door, and closed it behind himself.

* * *

 

The place that they went to was grand. There were a lot of photographers snapping pictures of the people. Stiles thought one of the photographers’ was obsessed with them because he kept snapping him and Derek whenever his eyes would land on him.

He grew tired and impatient in no time and turned around to ask Derek what was the photographers’ problem. Derek stared at him for a moment and then said, “It’s because I’m with a guy.”

“What? What do you mean?” asked Stiles, a frown on his forehead.

“It’s not allowed for soldiers to be… gay. And me coming to this ceremony with a male partner will probably raise questions about my sexuality,” Derek explained to him in a low voice.

Stiles’ frown only deepened. “But, I don’t understand. Why does it matter if you’re gay? Does that defy how you serve your own country and in the war?”

“No, it doesn’t,” replied Derek with a soft smile. “But you know how people are. They like to make bigger problems with smaller things. Don’t let it bother you.” Derek must’ve seen something on Stiles’ face, because he leaned in and kissed Stiles, softly, right on the lips, in front of these people. Stiles felt himself relax into the kiss and there was a snap right beside them. Stiles pulled back with a frustrated huff and turned to look at the photographer. Before he could do anything, Derek stepped up in front of him and said, in a calm voice, “If you don’t stop taking pictures of me and my partner right now, I’ll have to break that camera of yours.”

Stiles saw the man swallow hard. He nodded and scrambled away from them. Derek turned around and gave Stiles an innocent look. Stiles rolled his eyes and hooked his arm around Derek’s. “Let’s go, big guy. Get me something to drink before I’ll lose my shit.”

“I’m supposed to be the nervous one here, considering it’s a ceremony for the army veteran, and you want to have a drink because you’re going to lose your shit?”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” said Stiles rolling his eyes.

Derek kissed his cheek and led him to the bar. They both got their drinks and Stiles sat up on the stool, while Derek stood beside him, shaking and greeting anyone who stopped and talked to him. Stiles was taking his third gulp from the glass when a blonde haired model threw herself at Derek and hugged the shit out of him.

Stiles felt anger and jealousy swirling at the pit of his stomach, so intensely that it scared him. Who the hell was this woman and how dare she touch Derek so openly? Stiles was a second away from ripping that woman away from him when she pulled back. She was gorgeous. There was no other word to describe her. Even though she didn’t have any make up on, and her eyes were red-rimmed, she still looked gorgeous.

“Erica? How are you?” asked Derek. Stiles noticed that Derek looked pretty shaken up. And he was still holding her hands in his. “Why… what happened?”

“Oh, Derek, I thought you knew…”

Derek frowned. “Knew what?”

“Boyd. He…” the woman, Erica, didn’t finish her sentence. Her eyes brimmed with tears and Derek hugged her close once again. Stiles looked at them for a moment. He didn’t know what to do. He recognized the name Boyd, from somewhere. An image of a black guy, looking worried and covered in dirt run through his head.  _The dream,_  Stiles thought. And he remembered from where he knew that name. It was Boyd. Derek’s friend from the army. They served together. And Derek told him about Boyd in his letters as well. Still, he didn’t know who this Erica woman was. He subtly cleared his throat when he realized that the hug wasn’t going to end any time soon.

Erica jerked away and her eyes widened. She straightened her dress and wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand. “How rude of me, I’m sorry. I’m Erica,” she said extending her hand to Stiles, who shook it.

“Stiles,” he answered.

“Yeah, sorry, umm,” said Derek as he took a small step back to Stiles. He looked in shock and his face was paler. Stiles frowned. “Erica, this is Stiles, my partner.”

“Oh it’s so nice to meet you. I didn’t know you swing that way Derek,” she joked with a small smile on her face.

“Yeah, well,” Derek mumbled, trying to smile, but failing. He turned and said to Stiles, “Erica’s my friend. She is my best friend’s wife.”

“Oh,” said Stiles, feeling like a jerk for a moment for even feeling jealous about this woman and how Derek treated her. “Hey. Nice to meet you as well.”

“So, what happened Er?” asked Derek.

Erica shrugged and gave such a sad smile that Stiles thought his heart was going to break into pieces. “He got shot. Apparently, he didn’t have anyone covering for him. He was an open target.”

Stiles saw Derek’s shoulder droop from the information. He placed his glass of drink up on the bar and tentatively placed his hand on the back of Derek’s neck. Derek took a shaky breath and looked down. He shook his head and looked up at Erica.

“I’m so sorry, Er. I should’ve been there.”

“What? No! Don’t you  _dare_  to blame yourself for this, Derek Hale. Do you hear me? Don’t. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

“But the kids, you… how am I supposed to live knowing that-“

“You weren’t there. It wasn’t your fault. It would’ve been your fault if you were there and something happened to him while on your watch. Don’t do this to yourself. Again.”

After a moment of silence Derek nodded and Erica gave him a bright smile. “Great. He wouldn’t want you to blame yourself for that. You know it, Derek.”

“Yeah, I know. I just…” Derek straightened his back and smiled at Erica. “I’m glad you could come.” He changed the subject. After that they carried a small conversation, including Stiles into it as well. They talked about how the two of them met and how they were doing now. Stiles participated in the conversation but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to happen to Derek, and soon. And somehow Stiles knew that he wouldn’t be able to help Derek out from it. He just had to be patient and wait it out.

* * *

 

The ceremony was a well-organized event, if Stiles said so himself. They were sitting on a round table with Erica and Jackson and Lydia (who scoffed at Derek when he said that she made a good choice in the suit search for Stiles), and some other people that Stiles didn’t recognize, but Derek knew. There was another empty seat beside Stiles that Derek didn’t know who was going to sit there.

Half-way through the dinner party, the host of the event went up on the stage and started his speech. It was a thank you note for the soldiers that were doing a great job serving their country, living in constant fear of death and live, and the bravery that they showed on a battlefield was one of a kind.

“Sorry, I’m a bit late, sir.”

The voice was abrupt and so sudden that Stiles almost toppled off his chair. Derek turned around and his eyes widened. In a second, he was standing and crushing the young looking man into a hug. The guy winced a bit at first but then he wrapped Derek in an one-armed hug.

Derek pulled back and Stiles saw his face. It was Andy. Andy, who took Polaroid to the goddamned war, and took pictures of everything. Andy, who was younger than most of the guys in Derek’s army group. Andy, who had dimples when he smiled and was downright adorable.

“Stiles, this is Andy, my comrade. Andy, this is Stiles. My-“

“Boyfriend. Yeah, I know,” Andy converted his smile at Stiles. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too.”

 Derek was smiling as he frowned, “How did you know about…?”

“Oh, it was quiet obvious to me, sir,” he said with an easy smile. Stiles was already starting to like him. “Mind if I join you?” as he asked this he looked at Derek and then at Stiles. As if he was asking for a permission from both of them.

“Of course, sure. Let me just move to the next chair, so you’ll sit next to Derek.”

“What happened to your arm Andy?” asked Derek as soon as they sat down, and Andy greeted their table partners.

“I got shot, obviously. But it wasn’t anything heroic. I was actually quite clumsy on the field.”

“You were never clumsy,” commented Derek. “Scared, yes. But not clumsy. I had seen you in action.” Andy smiled at that and thanked Derek. Stiles wanted to add that he had seen him in action as well, but he held his tongue. No need to freak everyone out because of that.

Stiles didn’t feel left out from the conversation, because Derek’ hand was on his knee. Stiles slipped his hand down and squeezed his fingers, and Derek squeezed back.

Soon enough it was time to give out the awards to some of the soldiers who served. They were going by alphabetical order and Stiles was just about to eat a spoonful of rise when his hand froze mid-way. He dropped his spoon and whipped his head to the side to stare at Derek’s equally shocked face.

“Did they just…?” Stiles didn’t continue his sentence, because they called out Derek’s name again.

“Derek Hale is getting the award for  _Serving Overseas_  for more than ten years,” said the host and Derek leaned towards Stiles, gave him a brief kiss and stood. Fixing his suit he made his way to the stage. “And he will be reworded with  _Marksmanship Qualification Badges_. Derek Hale successfully completed weapons qualifications course during his service in Iraq. He is being recognized for tremendous courage and leadership in the line of fire. We cannot thank you enough, Derek Hale.” 

Stiles stood up and clapped as hard as he could. His hands were stinging by the time Derek got his medal, posed for a picture with his General, and returned back to the table. Stiles met him halfway and hugged him as close as he could. Derek returned his hug just as tightly. Stiles pulled back and kissed him fully on the lips, right in front of everyone, which earned them a few catcalls from the audience and a few  _‘aww’_ ’s from the ladies.

“I’m so proud of you,” Stiles whispered, their lips brushing. Derek smiled and kissed him chastely. They pulled back and sat down on their table. Derek shook their table partners’ hands and Stiles subtly wiped at his eyes.

After that, everything was a blur. The event was a success and everyone was happy. They didn’t get a chance to chat with a lot of people, but they were happy by the time they got back home. Jackson and Lydia invited them to Jackson’s tomorrow for celebration, which they agreed to.

By the time they got back home, Stiles was tired, but at the same time completely excited and happy for Derek and his award. He kept reading Derek’s engraved name on the medal and running his thumb over it. “This looks fancy,” he commented when they were almost back to Derek’s studio. Derek shot him a smile, but didn’t say anything. Stiles didn’t coax Derek to talk to him. He knew that if Derek wanted to talk, he would.

When they got inside the studio, and Derek closed the door after them, Stiles was there right behind Derek. He pushed him up against the closed door and attached his lips with Derek’s into a bruising kiss. He had wanted to kiss Derek silly when he got the award, and he couldn’t wait till they got home. Now that they were here, he didn’t restrain himself from unbuttoning Derek’s suit jacket and pulling it off of Derek, their lips still glued together. Because even if he needed to, he wouldn’t pull back from the kiss. Derek’s shirt followed soon after the jacket.

Stiles impatiently pulled at his undershirt and they reluctantly pulled back from the kiss. Derek pulled it off of him and cupped Stiles’ face in his hands. He pulled him back in and nipped at his lower lip. Stiles moaned at that and licked Derek’s parted lips, slowly, looking into Derek’s eyes as he did so. He grabbed Derek’s hands and pushed them down from his face. He leaned in and started to kiss and bite Derek’s chest and nipples as he worked on his suit pants.

Stiles could feel Derek’s muscles contract under his tongue. He licked his way down to Derek’s waistband of his underwear as he slowly let Derek’s pants fall down on the ground. He licked at Derek’s clothed and hardened erection and looked up at Derek’s face with hooded eyes. Stiles kneeled in front of him and pulled him out of his underwear.

Without waiting for anything, without warning,Stiles swallowed Derek in one go and started suckling him sloppily. “Stiles…” Derek keened and Stiles marveled at the sound. He hummed around Derek and sucked him giddily up his length. He released Derek with a wet pop.

Looking up at already sweating Derek he swirled his tongue around Derek’s head, licking on the pre-cum that gathered at the tip. He closed his eyes at the taste and soon he was back to choking himself on Derek’s erection. His hands fondled with Derek’s balls and he pulled him in closer and closer.

Derek’s hands were caressing his face affectionately, but as Stiles squeezed on his balls, he soon run his fingers through Stiles’ hair and gripped them as tight as he could. Stiles looked up at him and let his throat to relax. He grabbed Derek’s hips and moved them in and out motion. Derek got the message fast, because he started fucking himself into Stiles’ mouth with fast, small thrusts of hips. Stiles choked on his dick more than once, but he never asked Derek to stop. After all, they had done this now more than Stiles could count. He liked feeling Derek’s dick in his mouth, liked it when Derek choked him…

Stiles moaned around Derek again and he watched as Derek threw his head back and cried out as his hips stuttered and he spilled himself down Stiles’ throat. His fingers tightened their hold on Stiles’ hair, and Stiles could swear that some of his hair got ripped off of from his skull. “Fuck, Stiles,  _fuuuck_ …” Derek moaned as his hips still, slowly, stuttered into Stiles’ mouth.

He pulled back and Stiles followed after him. He licked him clean, from the bottom of his balls to the tip of the head. Derek hummed at the sensation and closed his eyes. Stiles placed a soft kiss at the tip and stood up. He knew he looked like a mess. His hair was probably standing up on edge, his cheeks flushed, and, yup, he had cum all over down his chin and on his suit.

“You’re filthy,” said Derek after a moment. His eyes were blown with arousal and post-orgasmic bliss. There was a heat in there somewhere that Stiles would never get tired of seeing.

“I’m filthy,” said Stiles back. His voice was deep from all the awesome time it had gotten. “I guess I should probably get them off of me, don’t you think?” as he said it he pulled his jacket off and threw it away. Next, he pulled his tie off. Derek pushed himself from the door and chucked out his pants and underwear fully off from his legs. Stiles eyed him for a moment and saw as Derek’s limp dick twitched in interest. He unbuttoned his shirt and made his way, backwards, to Derek’s bedroom area.

Leaving his shirt unbuttoned, he pulled his shoes and socks off. When he stood up he watched as Derek played with his dick. His eyes never leaving Derek’s he unbuttoned his pants and off of him, underwear as well. Now, he was standing in front of Derek, with full erection and unbuttoned shirt.

“Beautiful,” Derek growled at Stiles ** _._** Yes,  _growled_. And a pleasant shiver run down Stiles’ body.

“I’m all yours,” He whispered and didn’t have time to compose himself when Derek practically tackled him to bed and pulled his hands up and onto the bed, beside his head. He looked down at Stiles with a heated gaze and Stiles buckled his hips up. Derek’s eyelids stuttered, threatening to close, but he tightened his hold on Stiles’ arms and started to kiss him as passionately as he could.

Soon Derek released his lips and pushed him up the bed. Stiles went willingly. They maneuvered around the bed a bit and Derek sat down with his back against the bed head and Stiles between his legs. He leaned and grabbed the lube from the side table, andpoured some on his fingers. He pulled Stiles closer to his chest and pushed open Stiles legs. Sneaking his lube coated fingers down Stiles’ body, he pushed open Stiles’ ass-cheeks aside and pushed his fingers in.

Stiles’ reaction was spontaneous at that and Derek held him close to his chest with his free hand. Stiles whimpered and tried to get away from the pleasure, but at the same time his hips were moving back against Derek’s fingers.

“Derek, I can’t…” he moaned and moved his hips faster against Derek’s fingers inside of him. Derek attached his lips to Stiles’ neck as he threw his head back and cried out in pleasure. Derek’s free hand moved down Stiles’ body and wrapped his hand around Stiles’ erection. Pumping his hand up and down, Stiles was incoherently bubbling away. He didn’t know where to move his hips; down on the fingers, or up into Derek’s hand. He didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t know which was ministration was giving him the best feeling. He just knew that he was  _feeling_ , and that he was getting close at an alarming rate.

“Close, so close..” he whined, turning his head to the side and biting on Derek’s ear to stop himself from screaming.

“Don’t hold back then, love. Don’t hold back…” He heard Derek grunt and he just let himself go. He screamed and yelled as his orgasm was ripped off from him. He came with a shout, white strips of cum covering his chest hastily. Derek stroke him through his orgasm, and after that held him close to his chest as he kissed and nipped at his neck and shoulder.

Stiles was so worn out that he didn’t remember when he fell asleep or when he made himself go under the blanket.

* * *

 

The next morning, everything went to shit.

Stiles was the first one to wake up, surprisingly. Derek was still asleep and looked extremely adorable like that. Stiles left a small kiss on Derek’s forehead and got out of bed. He went to the bathroom relieved himself and washed up. He grabbed sweatpants from Derek’s drawers and walked to the kitchen area. He started making breakfast for both of them; trying to make as little sound as he could.

When he finished, he grabbed a tray and placed the plates on it, and their coffees and took them back to Derek’s bed. He placed it on the side table of the bed. Derek’s back was turned on him, his arms close to his body. He leaned down and kissed Derek’s head.

If Stiles was careful, he would’ve seen it coming, and dodged. But Stiles had never been careful.

The only thing Stiles managed to hear was a gun-shot going off, a dull pain in his stomach, and the look of complete horror on Derek’s face.

After that everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now, before you all tell me that i got some things wrong, i know (I did a re-search). my proof-reader told me that as well, but i left it the way i originally wrote because shut up i wanted to. 
> 
> now tell me what you thought of the chapter :P


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dude, he left.”

Stiles was taken from his handin a second when he yelled out for help the second he came in through the front doors of the hospital. He was literally covered in blood. Stiles’ blood. He looked down at his empty, blooded, hands in a daze. His mind hadn’t really wrapped itself around the fact that he literally shot Stiles.

He had shot Stiles.

Stiles was in the hospital, unconscious because of him.

“Oh my God,” he mumbled and dropped down onto his knees. He couldn’t see clearly, there was ringing in his ears and he looked close to fainting. There was someone close to him, talking to him, but he couldn’t really make out what they were saying. Were they talking to him? Was he going into a shock?

He couldn’t talk. He couldn’t utter a single word.

He didn’t know how long he was on his knees, feeling disoriented, but when he came to it, he wasn’t on the floor anymore. Instead, he was sitting on an uncomfortable chair in the waiting room, with a cup of something in his hand. His blooded hands.

He placed the cup on the small table in front of him and walked out of the waiting to the reception center. There were some nurses standing there and Derek walked to a woman who looked like she was in charge of them.

He reached out his hand to tap her on her shoulder, but then he noticed that his fingers were blooded. He didn’t want her uniform to get blooded. So instead, he cleared his throat and waited for her to notice him. The woman stopped in mid-sentence and turned around. She looked like a kindhearted, but stern mother, and Derek instantly felt himself stiffen at the sight.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Uhm, I have no idea how long was I… you know,” he said, feeling lame as the woman continued to stare at him with no expression on his face. “But I wanted to check up on Stiles Stilinski? And see how he was?”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t give up any sort of information about Stiles to you. Especially, you,” her eyes hardened.

“I know, I understand, but I wanted to know how he was.”

“He will be stable,” was the only reply he got from her.

“Did you call his father?”

“How do you know about his father?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“I know him through Stiles,” replied Derek.

“What is your relationship status with Stiles, Mr…?”

“Derek Hale. Call me Derek, please,” said Derek, now feeling self-conscious about the fact that the nurses were ogling at him like he was a piece in a museum. He swallowed hard, but concentrated on the woman. “I’m his boyfriend.”

“You’re his boyfriend, who shot him?” Derek looked at her, and then nodded slowly. There was a collective gasp of shock all around them. And then the woman took a subtle step back. Derek noticed it and raised his hands in surrender. “Look, I’m no harm to anyone. It was an accident, but I can assure you that I will take the responsibility of my actions. Believe me, I have no choice but do it. Because Stiles…” He didn’t finish his sentence. He couldn’t finish his sentence. His throat tightened and he closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. “I just need to know if he is okay so I can go. I’m sure you already called the cops?”

The woman looked at him for a moment and then nodded, “Yes, I have called his dad, who is also the Sheriff, as you already knew.”

“Yes, is he coming?”

“I think so.”

“Can I wait for them in the waiting room?” he asked when the woman gave him a skeptical look, he gave her a small smile. “Look, I don’t have anything on me with which I can hurt anyone. I swear, I’ll sit there and won’t move at all. Until the Sheriff will come and get me.”

The woman looked at her for a moment, and then she sighed and nodded. “Okay. Sure. Any funny move, and you’ll be thrown out of here.”

“Noted,” he said and turned around and walked back to the waiting room.

Derek didn’t know how long he sat there on the uncomfortable chair, looking around himself and observed every nurse or a doctor who walked pass him. He just knew that the blood on his arms were dried out now.

He looked down at his hands. Hours ago, he had caressed and cherished every skin that was exposed to him of Stiles’ body with care and love. Now, these hands had wounded his boyfriend. His lover. His partner. The love of his life.

Derek let out a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. He hang his head down. “What have I done?” he whispered to no one.

There was a dull ache behind his eyes that felt suspiciously like held-back tears. He consciously never really thought he’d be able to cry. When he was deep in his thoughts, having flashbacks to the war and such, he knew he cried, if the damp cheeks after his episode was over was anything to go by.

What happened today with him was something he didn’t think he’d be able to forget. No words would be enough to describe how much he disgusted himself. How much he loathed himself. How much he wanted nothing more than to turn the last few hours back and be more cautious about his actions.

He was sleeping when he had heard the clink and clank of things being pulled out of the cupboard. He didn’t think who it could’ve been in the kitchen when he reached down under his bed and pulled out his gun from being attached to the bed springs. He had positioned himself on his side and held the gun close to his chest. And when he felt Stiles’ lips touching his skin, he had reacted on instinct. He pulled the trigger. There was a shout. And Stiles was down.

Derek had thought that he was being attacked by someone. His dream, at the time, was so vivid, that he had thought he was back on the battlefield. Ignoring the obvious facts that he was still in his own bed, naked, and the air was filled with the smell of sex. Maybe he was too far gone into his dream stupor that he didn’t notice it.

Derek mentally nodded at that.

A hand landed on his shoulder and he jerked back to reality. He almost grabbed the hand on his shoulder when he looked up and saw who it belonged to. Sheriff Stilinski was looking down at him with a grim expression.

Derek felt his insides grow cold and a foreboding feeling nestled down in his gut.

“Derek,” John said. He sat across from Derek, on the table and faced him. He leaned down on his knees and stared at Derek.

Derek knew that he had to explain himself. He  _had_  to. Because John? John didn’t deserve what he had done to his son. He didn’t deserve it. “I’m sorry.” He started. His voice was low and soft. He didn’t know how else he could start it, so he went with the obvious choice of those words. When he continued, his voice cracked a bit, “I… I don’t think I was present when it happened. I had a dream. It was one of  _those_ memories, of the war, that I didn’t think I’d be able to ever shake off from me… But it’s no excuse of what I have done to Stiles. It’s no excuse to justify my actions. And you have no idea,  _no idea_ , how fucking sorry I am for doing that to Stiles.”

“Son, I-“

“No, no. Nothing will ever justify my actions. Ever. What I did to Stiles, sweet and kind, Stiles, was,  _is_ inexcusable. I will never forgive myself for doing that to him,” Derek said, his voice was borderline hysterical. He knew he was flailing and his eyes were open and earnest, and he probably looked like a maniac, but he had to make John to believe him. He had to make sure that Derek didn’t want that to happen. John just had to believe Derek. He had to.

“Son, I know it. I know you wouldn’t even raise your voice on Stiles. I know it,” John replied with a kind tone of voice. “And I’m sure Stiles knows it. I forgive you.”

Derek started to shake his head, “No, no,” he said. His voice was shaking from what, he didn’t know. But it was shaking and he didn’t know if he was losing it now, or what. He just didn’t know. “What I did to him was inexcusable. I-I need you to do me a favor.” In a second his mind was made. He didn’t even stopped to think about it. The thought came to him in a second and clawed its way into his brain and nestled warmly there.

John looked confused for a moment, and stared at him. After a pause he nodded, somewhat hesitantly.

“I-I need y-you to tell Stiles that I loved him and that I’m sorry. I can’t stay here. You have to arrest me and take me back to the station-“

“-What?”

“-And tell my commandeer to come and collect me back to Iraq.”

“Derek, son, I won’t do that,” John’s voice was soft, but firm.

Derek stared at him for a second and then nodded, “Okay. Fine. Don’t do it. Then I’ll do it myself.”

John shook his head, “No. I won’t do it, and neither will you.”

Derek was getting angry, “It is my choice.”

John gave him a small smile. “It is your choice, son. And I won’t hold you back from whatever you want to do,” John looked at him and then said with a serious tone of voice. “But you need to see Stiles first. You need to tell him what you just told me. He’d never forgive you, if you’ll go and not tell him yourself. You don’t want him to live his whole life not knowing the truth?”

Derek looked down at his hands and then nodded, “Yeah.”

“Good. Now go and wash up. Melissa said he’ll be conscious soon.”

Derek’s head snapped back up, “What?”

“Melissa, the woman you’ve been talking to? Yeah, she said he’s going to come back around soon. He’ll be high on meds, obviously, but he’ll be conscious enough to talk to us. To you.”

Derek stared at John in a daze. “You will allow me to see your son, even though I just shot him?”

“I know my son,” said John. And it was surprising that even the sentence was a short one, it held so much meaning behind it that the both man smiled at each other. It was more of a wobbly lips from Derek’s part. He didn’t think he’d ever laugh or smile after today. “Now go and get washed up. I don’t think it’d be great for Stiles’ psych to see you covered in blood.”

Derek nodded and stood up. He was a few feet away from John, when he turned and walked back to where John was sitting. “How come you aren’t kicking my ass into the next week?”

John gave him a brief smile and said, “I’ve been in your place more than I’d like to admit, Derek.”

Derek nodded at John. He walked to the bathroom, closed the door behind him and stared at himself in the mirror. His eyes were red-rimmed from exhaustion. He turned the tap on and washed his hands and arms first, and then a splashed some water over his face in an attempt to wake himself up a bit.

He had to see Stiles. John was right. He had to see Stiles and talk to him a bit. He would apologize for his actions, profusely, tell him he was sorry, and then he’d go and surrender himself to the police for his actions. He would take any kind of punishments for his actions.

He cracked his neck, closed the tap, dried his hands, and walked out of the bathroom. He walked to where Melissa was standing and approached her cautiously.

“Excuse me?” he started and Melissa looked at her with somewhat distant eyes, and then they shifted to something less edgy.

“Yes?” she said.

“I, uh, I’d like to see Stiles, please?” he said hesitantly.

Melissa stared at him for a moment and then nodded. “Sure. Just let me write this report down and I’ll escort you to his room.”

Derek nodded and took a step back from her. She turned back to her work. She wrote something down, gave some instructions to the nurses, and then she turned around, jerked her head to the side and Derek followed her.

“I don’t know if you know Scott,” she said. Derek nodded, “I’m his mother.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. So you know how Scott and Stiles are almost like brothers? Well, Stiles is like a second son to me. And I love him very much.” They stopped in front of a door and Derek looked at it as if it was going to bite him. “Now, I don’t know you, and I can’t make any sort of assumptions about you or what you’ve gone through, but know this. If it wasn’t for my respect for John and Stiles, I would’ve beaten the shit out of you.”

Derek blinked down at her; yes, she barely even reached his chest, but he knew that she meant every word that she had said. He knew that if Melissa wasn’t held back by the Stilinski men,  _he_ would’ve been a dead man in a second. And Derek wouldn’t even stop her from doing just that.

“John isn’t there, now, but I’ll know if you try doing something funny.”

“I won’t. I swear, I won’t,” she gave him a skeptical look, but didn’t answer.

Instead she opened the door and shoved him inside. She clicked the door shut after him and Derek was standing there. His insides were frozen. The room was silent accept the occasional bleep from the heart monitor.

“Hey.”

And just like that Derek’s heart melted into his knees. He made his way to the bed and looked down at Stiles. Stiles who looked pale. Stiles who had all these multiple tubes connected to his body. Stiles who had an oxygen tube in his nose, because he couldn’t breathe. Derek wasn’t sure where his bullet landed on Stiles, but he was sure that he had done some sort of damage.

A damage that would cause Derek’s sanity to get back to normal.

“Hey,” he choked out and smiled down on Stiles, who returned it. Derek leaned down and kissed his forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Great!” he said, and for a moment Derek thought they were back in the studio. Not in the hospital. “They pumped me up on morphine and I’m feeling great. I don’t think I’ve ever been high in my life before this, but dude, this feels awesome. When I get back home we should totally pack a bowl or something. We need to get high. Like, ASAP.”

“You think?” Derek asked, because he needed to remember Stiles like this. Energetic, flailing, beautiful Stiles. He needed to remember because he didn’t know when he would next see Stiles.

“Totally,” Stiles grinned at him and then he nestled back into his pillows. After a moment of silent gazing, Stiles reached out and took Derek’s hand into his. Derek hadn’t realized they had been balled into fists until now. “I don’t blame you, you know that right?” Stiles’ voice was small.

Derek felt small and so fucking hurt at Stiles’ words that he couldn’t stop the teas from falling from his eyes. “Stiles, you have no idea how sorry I am.”

“No, no,” Stiles pulled Derek’s hand close to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. And Derek just broke down. He doubled over and openly sobbed on top of Stiles. He felt Stiles’ arms wrap around his neck and pull him closer to his chest. Felt Stiles’ lips kissing the back of his neck. Felt Stiles’ warm breathe as he told him that it wasn’t his fault.

Deep down Derek knew that Stiles would be like this. Forgiving and caring and so heartbreakingly nice towards him, that Derek selfishly let himself bask in the glory that was  _Stiles._  He turned his head and kissed Stiles’ chest. On the heart. He felt Stiles’ breath hitch as he pulled back. Stiles made a distressed sound as he wiped away Derek’s tears. Derek held Stiles hands when he finished and kissed his fingertips, slowly, and then each palm, careful of the needle on his hand.

“I love you,” said Derek, staring right into Stiles’ shocked eyes.

“What?” Stiles whispered back.

“I love you. I’ve always loved you. From the very first time that we collided I couldn’t shake you out of my system. I just couldn’t, Stiles. I love you. And I will always love you. Please, remember that and know that I won’t ever,  _ever,_  deliberately hurt you. You understand me? If there was any other way to do this, then I would’ve done it, but there isn’t.”

“You love me?” it seemed like Stiles hadn’t heard anything that Derek had just told him. Derek mentally sighed. He knew it was wrong of him to talk to Stiles about it, since Stiles was high on meds and he probably wouldn’t even remember anything. But Derek had to try, right?

“I love you,” repeated Derek.

“Kiss me,” Stiles breathed and Derek wasn’t going to say ‘no’ to that. He never would say ‘no’ to Stiles. He just couldn’t.

He kept the kiss light and chaste. He didn’t need another painful reminder of what he was going to miss the most. When he pulled back, Stiles looked dazed and a few minutes away from passing. Derek kissed his forehead softly. He turned around, spotted the chair that was a little to the side from the bed, and pulled it close to the bed. He sat down on it, and held Stiles’ hand in his.

“Will you be back tomorrow?” Stiles whispered. His voice were slurred, already falling asleep.

“I’ll come back,” he said.

Stiles smiled in his sleep, and Derek hungrily stared at his face. Memorizing every feature, because this was it.

* * *

 

Everything was painful and his eyes hurt to blink open. Stiles groaned and tried to get comfortable in the bed but then he remembered that he wasn’t at home. He slowly opened his eyes and grimaced as he saw Scott sprawled up on the chair like a lazy, oversized sloth. Scott was a total sloth and no one could disagree with him. Okay. Stiles himself was a sloth, but that was different. Stiles was the King of Sloths.

Yeah. That made total sense to Stiles. Just how much morphine was being pumped into him? If Stiles was making sense of what he was thinking then he must be pretty damn high. He made no sense whatsoever.

“Scotty,” grunted Stiles. And yeah, just as Stiles predicted, Scott flailed awake from his sleeping position.

“Stiles! Hey, body. You’re awake. Are you okay? Do you want me to call mum? Do you want anything? Water? Anything?”

Stiles frowned up at him and said, “I want you to shut the hell up and grab me water, yes. And no to the others. Jesus Christ, what the hell dude? Why are you so all over the place?”

Scott frowned back and helped him to drink from the cup. “You got shot.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, “Obviously, idiot.”

“And Derek was the cause of that.”

“I know,” Stiles sighed and he turned his head away from Scott, momentarily. His throat had clogged up a bit, but he ignored it.

“Do you remember anything else?”

Stiles scrunched up his face in concentration, “Yeah. I was making him, us, breakfast in bed. So when I took the tray to him, I thought I’d kiss him awake, but then there was boom and here I am now. Where’s he by the way?”

But Scott ignored his last question. If only, his frown deepened. “Anything else?”

Stiles just shrugged and stared at Scott. Did something happen? Where was Derek? “Where is Derek?”

“You don’t remember the conversation you had with Derek, then?”

“I don’t think I do?”

“Dude, he left.”

Stiles felt his insides grow cold. “What?”

“He was taken to the station after he talked to you. But today he is gone.”

“What do you mean he is gone? What the fuck are you talking about, bro?”

“I’m talking about the fact that Derek has been arrested for shooting you.”

“Where… where is he now?” he couldn’t breathe. There wasn’t enough air in the room. He just couldn’t breathe.

“He has been moved to prison this morning.”

“But that-that’s-  What? He was supposed to be in the jail for a while and then he would have to have a court or something, but this is ridiculous.”

“He had a gun in his apartment. As much as he had a legal form for having it in his possession they still charged him.”

Stiles stared at him for a moment and then he said, “I need to go.”

“No, you don’t. Derek’s orders.”

“What?!”

Yeah, because _what_? What the hell Scott meant “Derek’s orders”? Was he a prisoner now as well? It was a horrible,  _horrible_  thing to think right now, but he was mad at Derek for assuming that Stiles wouldn’t try to do something. Which, yeah, come to think of it. Derek knew that he was going to do something, anything to get to Derek and get him out of the prison, but Derek had told the others to be careful with him.

He closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. “Why did he do that?”

There was a rustle of clothes and Scott was beside him. He felt Scott’s hand land on his shoulder and gave his shoulder a squeeze.

“I don’t know why he did what he did, Stiles, but I can tell you this; he went willingly. He didn’t do anything as they cuffed him and pulled him away from your door. He wasn’t crying. He just looked resigned and as he passed me by, he said to tell you to “not forget”. I don’t know what it meant, but he looked like he had meant it.”

And Stiles… Well, Stiles felt totally crushed and wounded like a kicked dog. He turned his head away from Scott’s face and a silent tear went down his cheek.

“I’m sorry, Stiles,” Scott’s voice was soft and he felt Scott lean his head against Stiles’ shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to go through this.”

“I can’t believe he left. I can’t believe he left without saying a good bye. Without me saying him the most important three words. Because Scott, I… I love him. I know it. I’m certain of it. But… I never got to know if he loved me back, you know?”

Scott was looking at him funny, but he didn’t comment on it. He just held Stiles close to his chest.

Stiles was angry. Stiles didn’t feel like he was happy and content when Derek was around. Stiles didn’t think that he was ever going to be able to forget about Derek, because this was Derek. Derek with perfect lips and body and everything. He was  _perfect_. Even though he had some issues after the war, but so what? Who wouldn’t have those problems? He felt exhausted and tired. So, so tired that he turned around and leaned his forehead against’ Scott’s neck, smelling in the familiar smell that was Scott.

“I haven’t even told him about the dream,” Stiles mumbled, already dozing off.

“Don’t worry, Stiles,” Scott said soothingly. “You will tell him when he’ll come back.”

“Mhmm…” Stiles mumbled, and soon he was back to sleep.

* * *

 

He didn’t have an easy recovery back to being normal again. He hadn’t realized that from a small banging sound he went into a full blown panic attacks that he didn’t have for  _years_  now.

And now? Now that he had needed and confided in someone, that someone wasn’t there with him. Derek wasn’t by his side, holding him close and tell him that he was alright. That all he needed to do was breathe. Breathe and everything would go back to normal, but of course nothing was normal for Stiles. Oh well.

The saddest thing was that he never heard back from Derek. Jackson wasn’t much of help. The only thing that he said to Stiles whenever he asked if he had anything related to Derek was “fuck off, Stilinski” or “he is alright.” That was it.

Stiles knew that he was moping. Because that’s what he’d have to do till the years of Derek’s imprisonment would just disappear.

But deep down, Stiles knew that it wasn’t true.

These days, he would cry himself to sleep, have multiple nightmares, and cry out for Derek. But he never came back. His dad was there. Always taking care of him. Always there to hold him when he was shaking and sweating, and wanted nothing more than to sleep it off. He wanted to smell Derek. Wanted to be wrapped around his arms, being held tightly by his strong arms. But he was being held with his dad, not Derek…

Derek never came back and Stiles didn’t know what he had to do now.

He just had to wait. And he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides from everyone* I'm sorry okay i'm sorry!!
> 
> If you guys want a sequel to this, then I'll work on it as soon as I'll get a steady plot in my head... but I really am sorry for how I ended it ._. please don't hate me.


End file.
